


Fate and the Fall

by EdgeLady



Series: Fate & Fury [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Sombra, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, M/M, Monster Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, OCs to fill out the world - Freeform, Omnic Crisis, Post-Omnic Crisis, So does Sombra, Stubborn old men, Team as Family, Tentacle Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tracer Makes An Appearance, Young Jack is Kinky AF, Young Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Young Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, tentacle sounding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:24:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 87,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15497097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeLady/pseuds/EdgeLady
Summary: A mishap with Tracer's Chronal Accelerator throws Reaper and Soldier 76 back in time to the end of the Omnic Crisis, and right in the path of their younger selves. Reaper sees the opportunity to change the course of lives and eliminate future threats, while Soldier 76 sees an opportunity to guarantee success in a different way.Trapped together by a snowstorm, young Gabe and young Jack have to contend with a terrible glimpse of their future, while trying to help a couple of stubborn old men find some form of reconciliation.All of their lives, and the lives of everyone around them, will be forever changed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This project has become so much more important to me than I ever thought possible. This legit started as an attempt at writing a couple of time-travel smut scenes for the R76 Kinkmeme, which morphed into a much longer story that became my BB project unexpectedly, and now has grown beyond that to become an ongoing and much longer work. 
> 
> The first 6 chapters, presented here for the 2018 R76 Big Bang, is the first complete arc of this story, and were designed to stand on their own with a definite end should I have found myself incapable of continuing. But I have continued! The characters have become so near and dear to my heart, that I felt like their story wasn't over. 
> 
> I want to thank my awesome BB artists, @pcturtl and @unstablestyle, whose art you will find embedded throughout their appropriate chapters. It was a pleasure to work with you both, and I am just ecstatic to have art made of my work by both of you. 
> 
> Fate would also never have become what it is without the encouragement, criticism, and continuous love from my beta reader, Adolphus Longstaffe. I am humbled by your enthusiasm for this story and for all the characters (but especially Reaper AI), and as ever by your talent.

Beautiful Cover Art by my fabulous R76 Artist, @pcturtl on Tumblr!!

 

_It was always this way_ , he thought.

Somehow, no matter the chaos around him or the bullets zipping by or the deafening roar of battle, they could always find each other, without error.

Soldier 76 was aware of everything around him, aware of the growling of Winston as he leaped into the middle of a group of talon grunts, aware of Lena’s giggling as she zipped through their enemies, aware of the bass pounding of Lucio’s healing song. But his eyes, hidden behind the bright red visor of his mask, stayed focused on one target: the black-clad mercenary, who was now popping out of wraith form right in front of him, twin shotguns already up. Soldier 76 was ready when Reaper came out of his smoky form shooting.

They knew each other too well, could read each other too well. They both fired and they both dodged at the same time. Helix rockets from the pulse rifle screamed past Reaper, missing him but exploding on the ground directly behind him and sending the assassin sprawling forward into the grass. Soldier 76 couldn’t press his advantage, because thanks to the goddamn spread, Reaper’s shot hadn’t missed entirely.

_It could have been worse_ , Soldier thought grimly, feeling the burning pain in his side.

He had rolled out of the way of the worst of the damage, and while the wounds he had sustained hurt like hell, at least he wasn’t down for the count. He came out of his roll, lifted his rifle and aimed, hand twitching up to activate the tactical program in his visor, but with a split-second of hesitation.

There was a flash of blue in front of him and he almost shouted for Tracer to back off, because she was all but right on top of Reaper now, her hand whipping the pulse bomb off her harness.

_No no no,_ Jack thought to himself, in a sudden panic.

“ _Apagando las luces_!”

A brilliant, purple flash blinded everyone on the battlefield. Tracer made a surprised sound, finding the pulse bomb suddenly useless. The EMP had neutralized it, as well as momentarily blacking out Soldier 76’s visor.

“Cheers, love!” Sombra called out mockingly, with a laugh from somewhere near Reaper’s last known position. “Don’t mess with _papi_!”

Then her SMG fired. Tracer cried out, the EMP having momentarily inhibited her ability to blink, but she was probably still just fast enough to avoid most of the damage.

He didn’t even think about it. Soldier 76 swung his rifle around toward the sound of Sombra’s voice and fired blindly, even as his visor began its reboot sequence.

Sombra gave a cry as at least some his bullets hit home.

“ _No_!” Reaper roared in sudden fury, just as Soldier’s visor ticked back on and the world came back in shades of violent red.

He had just enough time to realize Reaper was literally tackling him before he was thrown to the ground by a solid mass, which came down on top of him. He managed to hold onto his gun despite the violent impact, but he had the wind knocked out of him and before he could take his next breath, he was choking; gagging and suffocating as acrid black smoke slithered under his mask and into his mouth and nose. He clawed frantically at his throat with his free hand, but he couldn’t find anything solid to grab. Reaper hadn’t completely dematerialized, and he was straddling Soldier around the middle. Only his right hand was a smoky tentacle.

Tracer gave a shout and blinked right at him, her guns leading the way. Soldier 76, through the darkness starting to seep into the edges of his vision, saw Reaper level his left shotgun at her. Soldier slammed him desperately with his rifle just as the trigger was pulled and the shot went wide. Tracer came to a sudden stop, gasping and staring down at her own chest, where the telltale blue of her chronal accelerator flickered off and then on again.

“Oh, no!” she cried out.

She might have tried to recall away, or maybe she tried to blink. Soldier wasn’t sure. He only saw her flash forward past them, then she was standing back where she had been a second ago, even as her chronal accelerator gave a sizzling sort of sound and blinked off. When it came back on, there was a brilliant flash of blue light, blinding him once more.

_Shit. That probably wasn’t good,_ was his last conscious thought _._

  

When Soldier 76 came back to consciousness, the first thing he noticed was that the smoke which had been suffocating him was gone. He wheezed and very nearly yanked off his mask just to be able to gulp in some air, but he resisted the urge and instead let the automatic air filters do their job, purifying the outside air and making it easier for his damaged trachea and lungs—a gift from the Zurich explosion—to function.

The next thing he noticed was the absence of sound. At least, he no longer heard the sounds of the battle between the recalled Overwatch agents and the Talon squad. He didn’t hear Tracer or Sombra, though he did hear a slight guttural sound from Reaper, a couple of feet away to his right, as if the explosion had knocked him away. In fact, aside from Reaper’s groan and subsequent muffled curse, it was entirely too quiet. At least, until there was a scrape of something against the stone somewhere behind him (maybe a shoe?).

Shaking off the wooziness in his brain, Soldier 76 rolled onto his stomach, grimacing with pain and gripping his rifle close. He tried to climb to his feet, but he was struck by sudden dizziness and wondered if he’d hit his head somehow. His side burned where he’d taken a hit from those nasty shotguns, and he could feel wetness against his skin. There was a heavy metallic clang from somewhere in front of him, followed by another and another. The sound was vaguely familiar, waking up some distant memory, but Soldier hardly had time to think about it.

“Jack, you son of a bitch,” Reaper growled, sitting up in the rubble and raising a hand to his head. He still wore the white mask, but Soldier could feel his glare when the eyes hidden behind the dark holes turned to him. “Shooting my…shooting Sombra! How fucking dare you! I swear to God I will kill you…”

“Me, Gabe?” Soldier growled, returning the glare from behind his own visor. “You were about to shoot Tracer in the face, you asshole!”

And dizziness and wooziness notwithstanding, they were both on their feet now, shotguns and pulse rifle trained on one another, more than prepared to resume their fight.

“ _Don’t call me that_!” Reaper growled.

“Targets acquired. Four carbon-based life forms detected. Recommended action: eliminate,” a mechanical voice said.

Soldier 76 froze. He knew that voice, or at least one like it. He hadn’t heard it in a very long time, but he knew that droning tone, void of emotion or warmth. Something other than human. And though the other man was still pointing his shotguns at him, Soldier could tell from the way he went rigid, that Reaper remembered it too.

“Is that a fucking—” Reaper began.

“ _Destroyer_!” Soldier 76 yelled, just as a huge omnic burst through a wall fifty feet in front of them, two of its six limbs raised and pointed at them. It walked on four legs and rather resembled a mechanical praying mantis, except that instead of claws, its two “arms” were actually Gatling guns, which filled the air with smoke and dust as they roared to life. Reaper and Soldier, their own fight put on hold, went in the same direction, leaping into a nearby alcove for cover. From behind the destroyer, they could now hear the metallic screeching that meant more omnics rapidly converging on their position.

It struck Soldier 76 then that they weren’t in the same place anymore. This was not the open, grassy field (nor any of the abandoned buildings near it) in Germany, where Overwatch agents had been escorting a payload from an abandoned outpost to a transport and been intercepted by Talon. He and Reaper were inside a building now. A huge building. An eerily-abandoned shopping mall, Soldier realized, as they both ducked into what had once been a storefront, but was now mostly rubble and dust and tatters of cloth clinging to tortured metal.

“I know this place,” Reaper growled. “I… _we_ have been here before.”

Glass crunched behind them as the destroyer burst through the remnants of a giant window. Beyond the massive thing they could hear other omnics marching, and now there was gunfire, though Soldier 76 had no idea what the omnics were shooting at out in the main stretch.

“The mall. In Bucharest,” Soldier said suddenly.

The site of one of their fiercest battles together during the Omnic Crisis, back when they had been young and powerful and allies. More than allies, really. Soldier felt a pang of grief for what had once been, but he had no more time to think about it, because the destroyer was on them and they didn’t really have anywhere else to go, having backed themselves into the shop.

“Your employer’s doing, I presume?” Soldier asked, scowling behind his mask.

The white owl mask turned toward him, and Soldier was fairly certain he was being glared at, but he wasn’t graced with an answer.

“I don’t know how we ended up here, but fuck this,” Reaper snarled. “We know how to kill this thing. We’ve done it before, with shittier weapons. I’m shadowstepping behind it. Distract it.”

Soldier 76,  so accustomed to snapping-to at that voice in the heat of battle—even gruff and badly distorted by the mask—merely nodded in agreement and rolled to his right, firing his rifle as he went. The destroyer’s glowing red eyes followed him.

At that moment, it occurred to him that Reaper could very well shadowstep beyond the omnic and just walk away, leaving him to his fate. But that didn’t happen. True to his word, Reaper disappeared in a puff of black mist, reappearing behind the distracted destroyer and leaping toward it with his twin shotguns raised, aiming straight for where he knew the omnic’s core was located. The metal shielding that protected the central core was deeply reinforced, but at point-blank range, those deadly slag shotguns tore through the casing with ease.

The destroyer gave a horrifying sound that seemed far too human and began to spin around to face this new threat, but Jack leaped out from behind the tattered remnants of the checkout counter. The steady _rat-tat-tat_ of his pulse rifle filled the room as he fired at one of the slender metal legs, destroying it and sending the omnic staggering. It was enough distraction to allow Reaper to finish tearing through the reinforced metal, and his last shot struck the glowing blue core. Soldier 76 knew what was coming and ducked behind the register again, just as the core exploded and with a lingering shriek, the omnic died. He wondered briefly if Reaper had been caught in the explosion, but that thought flitted away as black smoke poured over the counter like a waterfall, pooling in a dark mass until the black-clad mercenary reformed, crouched on the ground beside him.

“There are more of them, out there,” Reaper said matter-of-factly, his voice devoid of emotion.

He rose and stomped away, his heavy combat boots making a sort of metallic, clanging noise as he went. Soldier 76 scrambled to his feet and followed him out onto the main concourse, reloading his rifle as he went.

The scene outside was every bit the madhouse Soldier 76 remembered from their previous battle here. There were two more destroyers, three bastion units, and what seemed like dozens of smaller, faster spider units. He had the strangest feeling of déjà vu, because this seemed so oddly familiar. In fact, the abandoned mall didn’t seem as if it had changed at all in the decades since the Omnic Crisis. Had no one bothered to come clean this place up after the war? And where the hell had all these omnics come from? There hadn’t been battle units like this in commission since the end of the Crisis, except for the rebuilt OR-15s in Numbani. What idiot politician had okayed the reconstruction of destroyer units, one of the most deadly battle omnics ever made by the God AIs?

The omnics weren’t chasing them. They seemed to be focused on something further in. Not surprising, considering that a grenade flew through the air just then and landed in the middle of a group of spider units. Soldier 76 tapped his visor, switching the view to pick up heat signatures, and saw that some fifty yards to their left, there were two distinctly-human heat signatures, hiding behind columns and periodically peeking out to fire rifles (and…shotguns?) at the approaching omnics.

Soldier 76 glanced at Reaper and saw that beneath the mask, the man’s jaw was tense and working, biting the inside of his cheek. A telltale sign that he was thinking, strategizing…

“There are two humans fighting back there,” Soldier said. “We should probably help them. What’s the plan, Gabe?”

Reaper turned to him, his body going a bit slack in surprise.

“Are you asking me to play hero?” he asked finally.

Soldier 76 frowned. “I don’t know who those people are, but I do know _those_ are hostile omnic battle units. Shit we dismantled and destroyed during the war. Are you telling me you’re OK with letting them walk around freely doing whatever they want?”

Reaper said nothing immediately, and Soldier knew he was carefully weighing his options. They had given a decade of their lives to fighting these things and indeed, as far as Soldier 76 was concerned, they had given _all_ their lives, because the Omnic Crisis had done neither of them any favors. Reaper could walk away from this, and he just might, because he was hardly the same man he had been back then (hardly the man that young Jack had loved back then). Still, Soldier quietly hoped that enough of that man remained in the mercenary, that the thought of hostile omnic units roaming free would be anathema.

“Just like old times, Jackie,” Reaper said finally, gazing toward the wave of omnics. “You get to be the bait. Draw them back here.”

Soldier 76 grunted. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

The owl mask looked at him, head inclined curiously to one side. “You trust me?”

“In battle? When we’re on the same side? I never stopped.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other through their masks. Then Reaper dissolved into black mist and disappeared.

 

 ****

 

As bad days went, this was definitely one of the weirdest. Not to mention, exasperating. It should have been a simple recon mission, scoping out some of the Bucharest Omnium’s forces from a distance. It had turned into them being spotted and chased into hiding in an abandoned mall complex. They should have been able to hide inside, find an alternate exit on the far side of the building, and stealth away to regroup with their team way the hell on the other end of Bucharest. Not that he was one to shy away from a fight, but a whole battalion of omnics lead by no fewer than _three_ destroyers (not to mention those damn bastion units), was not what he would have called a good time.

Commander Gabriel Reyes wasn’t a coward, but he was a savvy tactician, and a tactical retreat had definitely been in order. Most of Bucharest had been evacuated, so they could always come back later with the full team to deal with this battalion. This should have been a pretty easy and quiet escape. Should have been. Until there had been that inexplicable brilliant-blue explosion that was probably seen for miles. Now they were fighting for their lives in some goddamned abandoned mall with a battalion of omnics coming at them.

To top it all off, there had been those weirdos who had appeared with the blinding blue light. They’d wisely scurried off when the first destroyer had stomped in, and the poor bastards had pulled that omnic along with them, but Gabriel didn’t currently have the ability to assess what had happened to them. They’d been armed, so maybe they’d get lucky. Or kill each other before the omnics got the chance, since they had seemed keen on doing that anyway. He had no time to think about them. He kind of didn’t _want_ to think about them.

Gabriel was currently reloading his shotguns as he pressed his back to a half-shattered column, his eyes roaming the terrain he had to work with. He knew they didn’t have many grenades left, and that those only really worked on the smaller spider units, anyway. Spider units sucked, especially when they swarmed, and bastion units were nasty, but the real threat was the destroyers. Not far ahead, he could see an escalator leading up to the second floor of the mall, and while most of the upper level had collapsed in some massive previous attack, the high ground would still work to their advantage.

He looked to his left, where several feet away, his partner was also crouched with his back to a column. The handsome blonde looked at him, storm-blue eyes questioning, and Gabriel nodded toward the escalator. Jack nodded and held up his rifle, preparing to cover their retreat over open ground to their destination. But Gabriel never gave him the signal. At that moment, there came a high-pitched whistle from back the way the omnics had come, and Gabriel and Jack, puzzled, peeked cautiously around their columns.

The guy in the gaudy, red-white-and-blue biker jacket was standing out in the open, on top of a pile of rubble to be more visible. He _had_ to be crazy, or possibly suicidal, because judging from the rockets he fired right into the middle of the pack—striking one of the destroyers and sending it staggering—he definitely wanted to get their attention.

_What the fuck_? Gabriel thought.

Oh, he had their attention alright. The entire back half of the battalion turned toward him, including two of the bastions, the destroyer that had taken the rocket hit, and a shit ton of the spider units. The man jumped down off the rubble and retreated as the omnics peppered him with gun fire, but he didn’t seem concerned. He was fast, though, dodging behind rubble and columns, firing his rifle at spider units that skittered too close. What the hell was he doing?

A movement above caught Gabriel’s attention, and he watched as something black and liquid-like poured down from the upper level, right into the middle of the omnic units. Much to his confusion, the black substance reformed into the other weirdo that had shown up with biker. The guy in the black trench coat and white skull mask. Black smoke seemed to be writhing from the man’s body, as he lifted a pair of shotguns and exploded into a flurry of movement, the guns blasting in every direction.

“ _Die! Die! Die!_ ” Black smoke, white smoke, the smell of oil and munitions and explosions filled the air. Inside the cloud of chaos, omnic units screeched and collapsed and shattered.

It was a singularly terrifying and _awesome_ display of violence. Gabriel didn’t know if he should cheer or run. He didn’t do either. He remained frozen behind the column, his eyes as wide and unblinking as Jack’s, as they looked at each other in silent shock.

The smoke was clearing, the dance of death concluded, and the floor was _covered_ in oil and metal fragments. For just a moment, the surviving omnics—including the ones that had initially ignored Biker and continued to advance on Gabriel and Jack—stood very still, as if taking in the mass destruction.

“Threat level assessed,” the single remaining destroyer unit stated matter-of-factly, breaking the silence. “Analysis indicates human plague must be eliminated. Destroy!”

Everyone, absolutely everyone, snapped into action in that moment. All the omnics turned as one toward Black Cloud, but he vanished. His partner appeared just as suddenly, on high ground again, this time further back and standing on top of a bench, one gloved hand touching the earpiece of his mask.

“Tactical visor activated.” There was a click, a high-pitched whine, and then Biker set his rifle and sprayed into the remaining omnic units. “I’ve got you in my sights!”

“Let’s go!” Gabriel ordered, rising and spinning out from behind the column, shotguns blazing as he leaped at the nearest bastion unit. Behind him, he heard Jack’s rifle going off, taking out spider units and aiming for the slender legs of the remaining destroyer. Black Cloud reappeared on top of the other bastion unit, his shotguns tearing through the omnic with ease. But the remaining destroyer had apparently been tracking him. The omnic spun around and fired its left Gatling gun before the cloud creature could disappear off the dead bastion. Apparently bullets could hurt the man, because he staggered back with a hiss, liquid blackness trickling onto the ground like something akin to blood. He smoked out of existence and reappeared just above, on the second level, but the destroyer’s super-brain had predicted the probability of his attempt to escape. Almost before he fully materialized, the omnic’s chest cavity opened and it fired a small rocket, which Gabriel knew was far more destructive than its size suggested.

That was the problem with destroyers. They were one of the most vicious types of battle units, simply because their core processors were capable of incredibly rapid analysis in the middle of battle, and were armed with prediction algorithms that far exceeded the capacity of human brains. Plus, any destroyers within range of each other instantly shared information. Clearly, this unit had gained all the knowledge from the other two destroyers, both of whom had fought this strange person and died, and so had determined that the most dangerous adversary currently on the battlefield was Black Cloud. Not even Jack shooting at the thing’s legs made its attention waver, its processor singularly focused on eliminating the largest threat.

Gabriel didn’t see if the rocket hit its target directly. What he did see was the second floor above Jack was suddenly crumbling. Without a second thought, he dove at his partner and shoved him with incredible force, sending him flying several feet off to the side, clear of the danger. Gabriel never saw him land. The ceiling had collapsed on him and he saw nothing but darkness.

 

 ****

 

Soldier 76 finished off the remaining omnics by himself. After Reaper’s Death Blossom and his own attack, there hadn’t been many left standing anyway. The destroyer unit that had collapsed the goddamn second floor (and even part of the ceiling above, exposing the abandoned mall to the frigid winter day) had sustained heavy damage from one of the other fighters. Soldier silenced the damaged omnic once and for all, and then finished cleaning up the remaining spider units.

He briefly wondered if he was the only one left standing. He didn’t see Reaper anywhere and wasn’t sure if the rocket had been a direct hit or not. Reaper had survived worse explosions before—they both had—but he could still get hurt. The edgy bastard was likely brooding in a puddle somewhere, licking his wounds. Of greater concern to Soldier were the other two humans who had helped out at the end of the fight. Soldier hadn’t gotten a good look at them—he’d been busy mowing omnic battle units down—and he didn’t see either of them as he picked his way cautiously through the mess of oil and metal parts. He wondered who the hell had rebuilt a bunch of deadly battle units this many years after the Crisis, and more importantly… _why._ If it had been Talon—a likely culprit—Reaper had appeared to be as surprised as he was about it, and not at all hesitant to destroy them. He set those questions aside for now and stepped closer to the collapsed ceiling. A cold wind howled in from the hole far above, pushing in drifts of snow.

_Snow_? It was July.

Movement off to his left distracted him, and a moment later he heard a pained groan. At least one of the human fighters had survived, then. Had the other one been killed? He reached up to switch his visor back into heat-sensing mode, but froze when the person to his left sat up, cradling his left arm, his pale face twisted in agony.

_No._ Soldier thought to himself.

“Gabe!” the young soldier called out, struggling to his knees.

With a gasp and a grimace, the blonde set his own dislocated shoulder back in place. The sharp breath made him break into a hacking cough, thanks to all the dust from the collapse. But he hardly gave his own pain and discomfort a thought. He scrambled to his feet immediately, limping toward the pile of rubble formed after the collapse. “Gabriel! Oh, my god! Gabe!”

_Shit. No. NO!_ Soldier thought to himself.

His visor helpfully informed him that his own heart rate had significantly increased and so had his breathing. A message flashed across his vision, suggesting he was in distress.

_No fucking shit I’m in distress_.

No wonder the mall had looked so goddamn familiar. No wonder it was snowing in July. Because it wasn’t July, this wasn’t Germany, and he wasn’t in his own time. Tracer’s chronal accelerator had taken damage…

Agony arced through him then, and it wasn’t from the bloodied wound on his left side. His younger self was scrabbling at the pile of rubble with bare hands, his desperate cries for Gabriel twisting like a knife in Soldier’s heart. It occurred to him then that Reaper hadn’t reappeared, and what if he wasn’t going to reappear, because they accidentally got Gabriel Reyes killed in the past?

The implications, both personal and otherwise, were staggering. He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Beyond his own feelings on the matter—so elegantly display in his younger self’s panicked desperation—there was still almost another full year of the Omnic Crisis to go. Ten months in which the world would _need_ Gabriel Reyes alive.

Almost mechanically, Soldier 76 strode forward.

“Help me!” the 27-year-old Jack Morrison said to him as he approached. His hands, now bleeding and torn, never stopped pulling pieces of concrete aside, tossing them carelessly out of the way. He had to have been in massive pain himself, especially his left arm, but that didn’t seem to matter in the least. “Please, my partner is under here!”

_My partner. My best friend. My love._

“Soldier.”

He stopped just as he reached the pile of rubble and looked up, saw Reaper sitting on the edge of the tattered remains of the second story above. He looked almost casual, his legs hanging over, chin resting on his palm, vicious silver claws tapping lightly against his mask. He _looked_ casual, but something about his body language suggested otherwise to him.

“Have you considered that maybe it would be better this way?”

Soldier stared at him blankly.

“No,” he said finally.

He didn’t stop to analyze the incalculable relief he felt at seeing Reaper, nor to consider the implications of Reaper asking that question. He crouched beside his younger self and began tossing pieces of concrete aside. Reaper dropped down from his perch a few minutes later and joined them in digging through the rubble. It was a good thing he decided to help. There was a giant slab of concrete that definitely moved easier with three super-soldiers. It was beneath this that they finally found him, and by some fucking miracle, the younger Gabriel Reyes wasn’t a crushed stain on the ground. It looked as if he had deliberately wedged his body under another lifted piece of concrete, which had sheltered him from the worst of the collapse. But there was a lot of blood on his face, thanks to a wound on his head.

Reaper turned away, smoke pouring out of his mask and coat in torrents. Soldier took a few steps after him, but stopped. He had no idea what to say and anyway, why the fuck would he want to provide any kind of comfort to Reaper, of all people? This ludicrous mess was his fault anyway, for picking a fight with Overwatch back in Germany and for trying to take a kill-shot on Tracer. The familiar acrid feeling of anger burned down his throat.

“Amari, come in. Ana, do you copy?” Young Jack had a hand to his right ear. “Ana! Torbjörn! Reinhardt! Does anyone copy?”

Judging from the frustrated sound he made, there wasn’t a response. Soldier 76 closed his eyes, ignoring the telltale sign of a headache coming on, and thought about that day in the mall in Bucharest. They’d been doing recon on the omnium, and had slipped into the mall to hide from this battalion, only to end up having to fight their way out anyway. They were only supposed to be doing recon, since the weather radar had warned of a bad winter storm rolling in. They’d barely made it back to the abandoned house in central Bucharest that had served as the strike team’s base of operations, and together the five of them had weathered the three days of the blizzard there.

Today was December 23rd. On the 25th, Ana had woken them up to the smell of instant hot chocolate, and revealed that she’d been carrying bags of large marshmallows in her pack. It was hard to keep the house heated without power and only the fire, so Gabriel had suggested they stay warm by staying active, which was how Jack had ended up learning how to salsa dance from him, eliciting a “Merry Christmas, Jackie, I got you free dance lessons!” from Gabe. After the team went to sleep by the fire that night, Jack and Gabriel had snuck off to a quieter (and colder) part of the house and kept each other warm with more activity. On the 26th, they woke to Bucharest buried in snow and the wind gone. They attacked and shut down the omnium later that day.

Having to unbury Gabriel from the collapse, even with three of them, had taken way too long. The storm was already here, and likely the reason why the comms weren’t working.

_Fuck,_ Soldier 76 thought to himself. _This is bad._

“Can’t stay here,” Reaper said, turning to him. His body was still ‘smoking’ a bit, but not as much as a few minutes ago.

“My partner is injured and I can’t raise my team,” the younger Jack said, looking up grimly from where he had been carefully inspecting Gabriel for serious internal injuries. “I’m not moving him.”

“Going to have to, kid,” Reaper replied. He ignored the dirty look the blonde soldier shot him. “This building is structurally unsound. It could come down on our heads at any time.”

Which it did, Soldier 76 suddenly remembered. That was what Reaper was hinting at. When the strike team had passed by the mall on their way to the omnium, they had noticed that the building—likely heavily damaged during the initial omnic attack on Bucharest—had collapsed in on itself during the storm. Even now they could hear the creaking around them as the wind picked up.

The younger Jack grimaced. “I can’t carry him, I injured my arm. And my ankle. We won’t make it to my team’s base in this wind anyway.”

Reaper hummed in thought, turned his masked face toward Soldier 76, who grunted in reply to the unspoken question. “I’ll carry him.” When young Jack gave him a frown, Soldier cleared his throat. “I have training as a combat medic. I’ll be careful.”

“Check him over for injuries,” Reaper said, nodding.  “I’ll scout around. There are abandoned houses everywhere, I’ll find us shelter nearby.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for NSFW art at the end of this chapter, in case you're in a public place while reading this. ;)

_What’s the matter, boyscout? Did you get shot?_

Jack had no recollection of actually falling unconscious, but when he came to, he remembered the biting wind and snow outside, and how he’d tried, out of stubborn pride, to walk on his twisted ankle. He had quickly discovered that he wouldn’t make it very far in more than two feet of snow (and rising). Reluctantly, he’d allowed the man in black to pick him up in his powerful arms and carry him through the storm.

_Yes, asshole. By you. In Germany. Or do you not remember doing that?_

Jack was currently under blankets on a very comfortable, soft bed, and his feet had been propped up by pillows to help reduce the swelling in his ankle. He shifted a little, felt his right arm—which had been wrapped in a sling—twinge a little in warning, but it already felt a lot better than it had back at the abandoned mall.

_You were shooting my girl._

_You were shooting mine!_

Slowly, Jack became aware that he was actually hearing quiet voices.

“Let me see,” said the guttural voice he knew came from the man in black.

“It’s nothing.”

“The fuck it is, Jackass. You’re goddamn bleeding everywhere and making a mess. Let me—”

“I said leave it, Reaper!”

There was a sound of boots scuffing a wooden floor as the one man tried to twist away from the other. Just as Jack looked toward the roaring fireplace off to his left, ice filled his veins and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of shadowy tentacles growing out of the one man’s body and wrapping around the other.

“Let me go, you kinky fuck!”

The tendrils only grabbed onto him harder as he tried to get away. The man in black was standing behind him, both of their backs to the bed. One of the tentacles reached up and ripped off the bottom half of the blue and black mask, flinging it carelessly onto the couch in front of the fireplace.

“I swear to god, Gabriel—” His curse was suddenly muffled as a tentacle slithered up and gagged him.

“Keep your voice down, you’ll wake the children.”

Reaper—Gabriel?—dug a vicious, probing claw into the wound on the other man’s side, tearing the leather jacket further. Clearly in pain and distress, the man tried to struggle, but the tentacles held him firm and kept him silent.

“Oh, Jackie, these aren’t all mine. You let the omnics shoot you.” Reaper tsked softly. “How many times have I told you that you don’t get to die until I say so?”

The metal claws dug deeper, causing the unfortunate man to writhe and groan behind his shadowy gag. He couldn’t even claw at his shackles, because his arms were being tightly held down. Jack had had about enough. He went to sit up, frantically looking around to find his weapon, or _a_ weapon of any kind, and he realized two things simultaneously. First, he had been stripped down to base layers of clothing. And second, both his rifle and Gabriel’s shotguns were sitting on a table near the fireplace. He started to slide out of the bed, thinking he might make it to either weapon before Reaper noticed he was up, but an arm snaked around his waist and yanked him back as a warm, brown hand was clapped over his mouth.

“No,” Gabriel whispered in his ear. “He’s not going to kill him. We’re not in any condition to fight that thing anyway.”

_Ping. Ping. Ping._

Bits of metal. Bullets. Dropping to the floor as the metal claws dug them out. Reaper was crouching, never loosening the hold his tentacles had on the other man even as he lowered him to the floor. Blood was pooling beneath the injured man, but he was struggling less. Whether he was growing weaker or just resigned, Jack couldn’t tell. The smoke creature was losing cohesion, it seemed, his form becoming steadily mistier and distorted as the seconds ticked by. A moment later he faded entirely, but the man still couldn’t move. The cloud enveloped him and judging from his suddenly panicked thrashing and clawing at his face, he couldn’t breathe, either.

Jack had gone still when Gabriel had spoken, but now he actively struggled against his partner. They couldn’t just sit there and let this happen. Gabriel clamped down on him, whispering something about not being stupid and such a goddamn hero all the time, about how he always ran in without thinking…

Then the black cloud retreated, mostly reformed into a man, and the tentacles disappeared. All except for one, which snatched a canister filled with yellow liquid from the other man’s belt and plopped it down. A soft, golden glow appeared around the injured man. He was free now, the tendrils completely gone, but he didn’t try to get up, gulping in air and sounding somewhat harsh doing it, as if he had trouble breathing. Reaper was sitting beside him on the wood floor, now fully reformed and managing to give off an air of boredom.

“You son of a bitch,” the man gasped finally. He didn’t make an effort to get up.

“I got all the bullets out. You’re welcome,” Reaper responded calmly, studying his bloodied claws with apparent interest. “You woke the kids up, though. And probably scarred them for life.”

“Me? You’re the one engaging in tentacle porn right in front of them.”

Reaper’s skull mask looked up, and for a moment there was silence, before he threw his head back and laughed, a harsh sound.

“And you called me the kinky one. Get up, Soldier. There’s plenty of room on the bed. Or any number of other beds in this house, but I’m not wasting wood on heating up another room. Not sure we have enough to make it through the storm as it is.”

He stood up. Sort of. He made the motion of standing up. But Jack’s wide eyes looked him up and down, trying to comprehend what this thing was, and how his legs had faded into fine black mist. He’d had fully formed legs and feet before, hadn’t he? Yes. Jack distinctly remembered the heavily-armored boots back at the mall. Gabriel’s hand was still held limply over his mouth, but Jack heard him breathing a little harshly. Against his back, he could feel Gabriel shaking and his heart hammering. Absently, Jack rested a hand on his lover’s thigh in an attempt to soothe him, because it sounded like he was a few seconds away from a full on panic attack. And in all the years of horrible SEP experimentation and side-effects, and the nine years of war they’d fought side by side against thousands of omnics, Jack Morrison had never, ever, seen Gabriel Reyes panic.

It wasn’t like Jack didn’t understand the sentiment. During the battle at the mall, he’d shoved it out of his head, because when these two freaks had shown up in that flash of blue and nearly gotten into a fight, and when they hissed and spat at each other using familiar names, it had been more than a little disconcerting. Jack and Gabriel had stayed very still during that, staring at one another from behind their respective columns, trying to make some sense of the giant coincidence of two people randomly showing up at their location with their names. The omnics had almost been a welcome distraction. But now this?

“Are you…are you us?” Gabriel blurted, his voice a touch higher than normal thanks to his oncoming panic.

Reaper appeared to be staring at them. Jack wished he didn’t have the stupid mask on, because he couldn’t read the creature like this. Then it occurred to him that there was probably a reason he wore a mask, and he was suddenly concerned about what might be under it.

Behind the creature, Soldier stood up, pulling his ruined jacket off and throwing it to the side with an annoyed growl. He was wearing a black compression shirt, which had rips in it, either from the bullets or Reaper’s claws—or both—but he ignored it, giving a deep sigh as he also looked at Jack and Gabriel.

“Fuck,” Soldier said. “This is bad.”

Then he swooned, probably from blood loss, and Reaper snapped around and caught him before he could fall to the floor, lifting the man in his arms with a tenderness that belied their blatant hatred of one another.

“ _Pendejo,_ ” Reaper growled, floating around the king size bed to the empty side, where there was plenty of room, since Gabriel and Jack were clinging to one another like a lifeline, shaking and shrinking away from the terrifying vision of their future.

 _No,_ Jack thought to himself. _No. This can’t be. How could we ever let it get this bad between us_? _And_ w _hat the hell happens to Gabriel_?

“Relax,” Reaper said. He lay the soldier down on the bed with surprising care. The black eyeholes of his mask focused on Gabriel. “How terrible can it be?” He made a motion toward Jack and then the Soldier. “This is better than a twin fantasy.”

For a moment, there wasn’t any sound in the room besides the cackling fireplace. Jack felt Gabriel freeze against his chest.

“Oh my fucking god _,_ you _are_ me!” Gabriel finally exclaimed.

Jack didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. The old Soldier let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Reaper made a dismissive motion with a clawed hand.

“Knock yourself out. I’m sure Old Man Jack can explain things. I have shit to do. I suggest you all get some sleep, though.” He turned into a fine black mist and drifted out the door.

“I swear, only that asshole could find something obscene to say about this situation,” the Soldier grumbled.

He reached up to the red-lensed visor he was still wearing, his lips twisted in a grimace, as he pulled it off and set it on the nightstand nearby. When he turned back to them, Jack and Gabriel got their first good look at him in the dim light of the fireplace.

He was old, but it was definitely Jack. He didn’t just _look_ old, he carried his age heavily. His hair was pure white and glistened silver in the light of the fire; a far cry from the thick, vibrant, sun-blonde locks Jack had, but with the same unruly characteristic of Jack’s hair, as if all the gel in the world was powerless to do anything about that stubborn cowlick in the back. His face was worn, and there were two very vicious scars across it, one running from the left side of his forehead, across his nose, and down his right cheek. The other scar was across his lips on the left side. He had slid his gloves off over near the fireplace along with his jacket, and when he raised a hand to massage his temple, face twisted in pain, they noticed that his palms were badly damaged, scarred as if with severe burns.

Jack absently looked down at his own hands, which had been wrapped in medical gauze while he had been unconscious, since he’d torn the shit out of them unburying Gabriel from the collapse.

“How we got here isn’t easy to explain,” the old Soldier said. His voice was deep and gravelly, though still recognizable as Jack’s, if one listened carefully.

“There’s time travel in the future,” Gabriel said. He glanced toward the door, and then slowly let out a breath. “Okay, I can only process so much at one time. So, time travel. You’re here from the future. Why?”

“It was an accident,” the Soldier replied. He grimaced. “And we have no way of going back. The device that sent us here didn’t come with. The person that built the device…well, they haven’t even been born yet. So I’m pretty sure we’re stuck here.”

“And your people wouldn’t come find you?” Jack asked.

He probably should have found talking to his future self much stranger, except that the soldier was decades his senior and carried himself so differently that Jack couldn’t think of him as the same person as himself, really. Privately, he found it rather disconcerting. Sure, Gabriel had something tangible to panic over, because his future self may not even qualify as human. But Jack did not like the weight and the pain that his older self carried either, as if over the next few decades the world was going to chew him up and spit him back out cruelly. Unconsciously the arm he had wrapped protectively around Gabriel tightened.

“I don’t know if that’s possible. I don’t know anything about the science behind this,” the man replied. He lay his head down on the pillow and gave a soft sigh, closing his eyes, brow furrowed in pain. “Look, I know you have a thousand questions, but I bled like a stuck pig, you took a nasty head wound, and you hurt your shoulder and ankle. I think we should try to get some sleep. We’re stuck here for the next few days anyway, there will be plenty of time to talk.”

“Okay, but…what about…” Gabriel began, then stopped. When the Soldier opened his somewhat-milky blue eyes at him, the darker man pointed at the door. “What about…umm…?”

“If Reaper had any intention of killing me, or my younger self, he would have done it already and not wasted so much energy healing me,” the Soldier grumbled. “And he sure as shit isn’t going to harm you… Gabriel.”

When he said the name, his voice softened almost to a whisper, speaking almost reverently and with longing. A glimmer of pain crossed his expression, a fleeting thing that soon enough disappeared. But Jack saw it. He heard it in the way his gravelly voice caressed the name. He didn’t know if Gabriel, whose thoughts were probably still scattered in a thousand different directions, had picked up on it. But Jack knew.

His future self was still in love with Gabriel Reyes. And whatever the hell was going on between the Soldier and Reaper, despite the venom with which they spoke to each other, old Jack still felt those emotions, especially when he looked at the young, vibrant Gabriel sitting next to him. But the moment passed. A hard look crossed the soldier’s features once more and his jaw tightened.

“I need to sleep. I suggest you try to get some rest too. We’ll talk later.” With that, he reached for the blankets and pulled them up over himself, and then flung one arm across his eyes.

Gabriel and Jack didn’t move for some time, at least not until Jack felt the tension start to drain from his partner’s body and his head actually drooped a bit.

“Sleep,” Jack murmured, lowering him to the bed gently. “I’ll keep watch.”

 

****

 

The next time Soldier 76 became conscious, he immediately realized three things. First, the room was much colder; second, in his sleep he’d gravitated more toward the center of the bed, rather than the very edge he’d started on; and third, there was a warm body pressed to his back.

 _Fuck,_ he thought.

Gabriel had always been clingy in bed, especially when it was cold. He and Jack had always molded so easily around one another, a perfect fit, and this was no different. Young Gabriel was spooned against him, their legs tangled together, arms wrapped around Soldier’s chest. Soldier must have been genuinely exhausted and knocked out, to not have felt Gabriel wrapping himself around his body like a second skin. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept this well or this dreamlessly, especially without the aid of a bottle or three of Jack Daniels. He felt rested for the first time in a long time, and wondered how long he had slept.

There was a tightness in Soldier’s chest, and he realized that it was pent-up emotion. That he desperately wanted to cry. Not from loss or sadness, but because this felt so goddamn good and so goddamn right. He missed this so goddamn much. How long had it been since he’d been held so tenderly by this man?

Young Gabriel stirred a little against him, murmured something in his sleep that Soldier didn’t quite pick up. He was dreaming. And fuck, it must have been a helluva dream, because Soldier could feel Gabriel’s half-hard cock pressing against his ass, and he was fairly certain that any minute now young Gabriel was going to achieve what his older, angrier self hadn’t been able to: he was going to kill Soldier 76. And if he died like this it was perfectly, _perfectly_ okay.  

He stayed still, not wanting to wake Gabriel, who needed rest after the battle and the injuries. But it was getting difficult not to squirm, because Gabriel was still dreaming and getting harder, and after a while he began grinding ever so slightly against Soldier’s ass and _holy shit he couldn’t deal with this_. Soldier’s treacherous dick was interested, of course, and he was half-hard by the time he decided he should probably extract himself from the situation. This was going to be difficult, since Gabriel was wrapped like an octopus around him, but slowly Soldier 76 slipped out of his grasp, and he was halfway off the bed when Gabriel grabbed his arm.

“I was having the best dream,” he murmured sleepily. “About being the filling in a Jack Morrison sandwich, and you had to go and wake me up. Better be for a good reason.”

Behind him, young Jack snorted, and when Soldier 76 looked back at them, his younger self’s brilliant blue eyes sparkled with genuine amusement. He looked wide awake, and he didn’t seem at all upset at the prospect of sharing his boyfriend.

 _Were my eyes always that blue_?

“Are you serious? Did you hit your head that hard?” Soldier heard himself asking. He shook his head. “Why the fuck would you want me?”

_I’m not just old. I’m not even remotely the man I used to be. And you… you’re perfect and precious and I will never forgive myself for letting the darkness consume you. For letting the world consume us._

Gabriel sat halfway up with a frown. “Go, if you want to, but I can read you like a book, Jack Morrison. Always could. Come back to bed. It’s fucking cold and you two were keeping me nice and warm. Let’s at least talk.”

Drawn by the inescapable gravitational pull that Gabriel Reyes had exerted on him since the moment they’d met, Soldier 76 sat down on the bed, facing him.

“How is your arm, _cariño_?” Gabriel asked, looking over his shoulder.

Young Jack slipped off the makeshift sling and carefully stretched out his arm. “Better. Foot is better, too. Maybe next time don’t throw me so hard? And you know, don’t just stand there afterward and let a building fall on you?”

Solider 76 winced at his younger self’s choice of words. It’s not like young Jack was aware that decades from now, Gabriel would do more than just stand there while a building fell on him. He’d die to save Jack, take steel rebar to the chest, and Jack would have to watch the light leave his eyes while the world burned around them and Jack screamed himself hoarse as he tried to dig Gabriel free. Absently, he rubbed his damaged hands together.

Those piercing blue eyes were focused on him. Soldier 76 cleared his expression, wondering just how much his younger self had read on his face just then. Thankfully, young Jack didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he slipped out of bed, carefully testing his weight on his ankle before moving over to the fireplace to toss another couple of logs and rekindle the flames. He shivered and made a _brr_ sound as he hurried back to the bed, though he did stop to rummage around in his backpack for a moment before he slipped back under the covers.

“What about you, old timer?” Gabriel asked, turning back to Soldier.

Despite himself, Soldier smiled. Absently he touched his side where Reaper had dug into him to get the bullets out. “I’m fine. Super-soldier healing.”

And biotic field healing. And, though he was loath to think about it much, the very unpleasant but effective Reaper healing.

Without thinking he reached out with a hand and brushed a thumb gently over the white medical gauze taped across Gabriel’s forehead. The nasty gash had bled a great deal, but it had thankfully been a fairly shallow one. Soldier 76 had stitched it up with care (thanks to the medkit young Jack carried in his bag), but he knew it would result in a scar that Reaper currently didn’t have because in their original fight at the mall the ceiling hadn’t collapsed on him.

“Can the gauze come off? It’s bugging me,” Gabriel said, reaching for it.

Soldier 76 batted his hand away and gently lifted the medical tape. “Yeah, it’s almost fully healed. I can probably snip the stitches off later today. Going to leave a scar, though.”

Gabriel shrugged. “What’s another goddamn scar in this war?”

Soldier 76 grunted and tossed the rolled-up gauze and tape onto the nightstand. When he turned back, Gabriel grabbed his hand.

“What happened? Looks like burns.” When he didn’t get a response, those warm chestnut eyes took note of the sudden tension in his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw before they locked gazes. “Sore subject, hm?”

“You could say that,” Soldier 76 replied softly.

His muscles protested the tension in his body, and he felt like it was suddenly much harder to breathe. Gabriel hadn’t let go of his hand, was instead rubbing gentle circles on his palm, and though some of the nerves in his hands were fucked up after the Zurich explosion, he could still feel the caress. It was doing strange things to his stomach, a sort of pit of both anxiety and heat forming deep inside. His free hand twitched with the sudden desire to caress him back, to touch Gabriel’s beautiful face for the first time in over seven years. His eyes flickered down, taking in the sight of Gabriel’s black shirt clinging to his muscular chest like a second skin, and the way the blankets and sheets pooled around his waist.

“You are one impressive silver fox,” Gabriel said, startling him out of his blatant staring. “Stupid sexy Morrison, even decades older.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Soldier 76 said, suddenly feeling embarrassed and looking away.

The last thing he felt was sexy. Old, tired, ready to lie down and die most of the time. Definitely not sexy. The tension in his body was starting to hurt, like he was a taught string about to snap. He was trying so hard not to get emotional, not to lose control.

“No. There’s a magnetism to you.” Gabriel gently took hold of his chin, thumb rubbing against the rough stubble there, and turned his face back toward him so that he was forced to meet those sincere, deep brown eyes. “No more baby-faced boyscout, but I like the scars. Makes you look distinguished. Like you’ve seen some shit.” He ran a finger gently over the larger scar on Soldier’s face, not a trace of disgust in his expression. Soldier quivered a little under his caress. “You’ve aged like a fine whiskey, Jack. Probably taste just as good, too.”

The string snapped. Solider 76 had no conscious thought of moving, and no recollection of actually doing so. But suddenly his lips were pressed against Gabriel’s with bruising force and he was wrapping his arms around the younger man’s body and pulling him close, flush against his own chest. Gabriel made a small noise of surprise, but when Jack started to back off, he roughly threaded his fingers through Jack’s white hair and pulled him back in. He responded in kind when Jack hungrily plundered his mouth, the kiss wet and sloppy and desperate. Part of Jack wanted to just hold him and sob because he was so warm and _alive_ and _here_ in his arms, and if that’s all Jack was able to do, he’d be happy with that.

But any thoughts of this being a chaste reunion went out the window when Gabriel briefly broke contact and shifted in his lap to straddle the older man’s waist with his almighty thighs. Jack’s cock took note. He slipped his hand under the hem of Gabriel’s black shirt and pushed it up, fingers running over the hard planes of his muscular chest. As he was lifting the shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, he was drawn to Gabriel’s already taut nipples—whether from the cold or arousal, who knew—and he couldn’t help but run his tongue over one and then the other, nipping and sucking as Gabriel groaned, arching into him, the sound traveling directly to Jack’s cock. Meanwhile, Jack’s hands slid slowly down his broad back, around his narrow waist and finally to that perfect ass, which filled Jack’s palms so deliciously. Oh, _god_ , it all came flooding back to Jack: how much he loved this man and this body, how perfectly it melted against his own like someone had made them to fit each other, how good he smelled and tasted, and how much Jack wanted to leave his mark all over his bronze skin.

Jack’s lips slowly made their way back up, dropping tender kisses until he was sucking a bruise on Gabriel’s neck, while the younger man slid his warm hands underneath Jack’s shirt and pushed it up. Reluctantly Jack separated from him, only long enough to have his shirt pulled off. Before he could go back to licking and sucking, Gabriel looked down, running his fingers gently over Jack’s muscular chest, tracing along the many cruel scars on his pale skin. For just a moment Soldier 76 recoiled from his touch, suddenly self-conscious at the ugly state of his body, but Gabriel’s fingers never wavered.

“I was right,” he murmured. “You’ve seen some shit. And I thought my Jack was marked up after nine years of war.”

 _Your Jack,_ Soldier 76 echoed in his head, and suddenly realized he’d completely forgotten there was someone else in the room.

Apprehensively, thinking he might have long overstepped his bounds, he looked past Gabriel. Much to his surprise, young Jack was relaxed and lounging like a desert prince, his head propped up by an elbow, watching them with a slight smile. Soldier 76 must have had a questioning look on his face, because the blonde merely shook his head slightly.

“I don’t mind,” he murmured. “We talked about this.” At Soldier’s puzzled frown, he added, “We were awake a couple of hours ago. You were still knocked out. I ended up admitting that watching someone else fuck Gabriel is a fantasy I never thought I’d ever have the courage to play out.”

“Your kinky voyeurism at war with your jealous territorial rage,” Gabriel said playfully, looking over his shoulder at the blonde.

“Shut the fuck up, before I give that sassy mouth something else to do.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “You promise?”

“And I’m the kinky one?” young Jack said, raising his pale brows. “Do you really want to get fucked from both ends?”

“Umm…yes? No, wait… _hell yes_?”

Gabriel gave a startled yelp when he was suddenly ousted from the older man’s lap, dumped unceremoniously onto the bed.

“I think you should earn it,” Jack said softly. He was kneeling between Gabriel’s thighs now. He grabbed hold of the waistband of Gabe’s pants and slowly slid them down, until that achingly hard and weeping cock sprang free.

“That won’t do. You’re way too excited. You won’t last long.” Young Jack tsked softly. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he peered past his lover at his older self. “I think you should suck him off. Get the first one over with quickly. That way he’ll last longer for round two.”

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Gabriel said dryly. “The horror.”

Young Jack leaned over him from behind, making Gabe tilt his head back to peer at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?”

Without waiting for an answer, young Jack kissed him hard, blocking his view of what was going on below. Thus, Gabriel bucked his hips in surprise when Jack slipped his mouth over his throbbing, aching cock and slid down its length without hesitation. Gabriel groaned audibly into the kiss as he was deep-throated without so much as a hint of a gag reflex. His hands gripped the sheets and his thighs tightened around Jack as he was pleasured hard and fast.

Young Jack was right; it didn’t take long for him to come. He came deep inside Jack’s mouth, warm salty fluid pouring down his throat, welcome and familiar. When Gabriel’s shuddering subsided, both Jacks backed away from him, leaving him gasping for air, a fine sheen of sweat making his bronze skin gleam in the firelight.

“You’ll have to earn the next one,” young Jack said softly in his ear.

“Tell me what you want,” Gabriel replied.

“Me? I just want to watch for a while. You have to work on him.” The blonde smiled at his older self before looking back down at the darker man. “But you don’t get to come until I say so, Gabe.”

“Fair enough.”

Gabriel sat up, shivering a little from the cold air hitting his perspiring skin. Seeing this, Jack pulled him into his embrace, pressing their bare skin together for warmth. He kissed him tenderly, and Gabriel responded in kind, while the fingers of his right hand slid through his white hair. His other hand moved slowly down Jack’s chest, pausing to tease a rosy nipple. When they separated momentarily from the kiss, Gabriel nuzzled him gently, the rough hair of his beard tickling Jack’s cheek.

“Can I explore you, Jack? Your body is familiar, and yet…not.”

“Yes,” the older man replied, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat.

He allowed Gabriel to push him flat on his back, and swallowed when the younger man straddled his waist, not accidentally grinding his bare ass against the hard bulge in Jack’s pants. Jack groaned softly, knowing he was being teased mercilessly and that judging from the mischievous glint in Gabe’s eyes, the teasing would continue. He certainly didn’t mind.

As he lay there, his hands caressing Gabriel’s back and shoulders, he wondered if he ought to feel more out of sorts or strange about this situation. Instead, as Gabe’s lips and fingers, and occasionally his tongue, roamed over Jack’s body and lovingly caressed his many scars, Jack felt that tightness in his chest lessen.

By the time Gabriel’s achingly-slow exploration had reached the silver treasure trail just barely visible over the hem of his pants, Jack thought he might scream from the need to take Gabriel, right then and there. Something new, some bit of plastic, touched his fingers, and Jack held up his hand to find that young Jack had dropped a small bottle of lube into it. Taking that for the invitation that it was, Jack sat up and gently pulled Gabriel back for a passionate kiss, before he reversed their positions, flipping them over so the younger man was on his back.

God, the beautiful sounds Gabriel made when Jack’s lubed fingers pushed past the tight ring of muscle, carefully scissoring and stretching him open. It had been years, but Jack still remembered how to touch him, how far to slide his fingers into the silky hotness before curling them and hitting _that spot_ that made Gabriel cry out and writhe under his careful ministrations.  

If this was a dream, Jack never wanted to wake up. He was three fingers deep when Gabriel started begging without having to be asked.

“Jack, _Dios_ … please… fuck me, baby, _please_!”

Instead, much to his frustration—judging by the disappointed groan—Jack slid his fingers out.

“On your hands and knees,” young Jack whispered in his lover’s ear.

At some point during the show of foreplay, the blonde had shed the rest of his clothing, and now so did Jack. Neither of them had to ask Gabriel twice. He was soon enough on all fours at the center of the bed, shivering with anticipation, cock hanging hard and thick between trembling thighs. His bronze skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. When Jack placed a hand on his ass, Gabriel jumped at the contact, and pressed back against him, eagerly.

“Please,” Gabe murmured.

“Please what?” young Jack asked, gently lifting his lover’s chin so they could lock gazes.

“Please, Jack, fuck me. Both of you,” came the soft reply.

Young Jack leaned down to nip his bottom lip. “Who knew you were such a slut for cock, Gabe?”

“Only for yours, Jackie,” came the reply. Gabriel made a soft whimpering sound when Jack teasingly touched the head of his cock against the younger man’s ass. “ _Please…_ ”

Jack glanced at his younger self and when the blonde nodded, the older man wrapped his hands around those slender hips.

“You always did know how to beg so nicely, Gabe,” he murmured. He had already slicked his cock with lube, and now he pressed the head slowly past the tight ring.

“Yes!” Gabriel groaned, arching his back. “ _Si, viejo,_ like that…give me all of you! You fill me up good, _papi_ …”

_Well, that’s different._

Considering Jack had always been younger than Gabriel, the whole daddy kink had never been a thing. But he kind of liked it. A lot. Gabriel continued to moan and encourage him with filthy language, even impatiently trying to press back against him to hasten his entry. Jack kept a bruising grip on his hips, though, and he continued his slow progress, not only so that he wouldn’t hurt Gabriel, but also because he knew it was driving him crazy. When he finally bottomed out, their bodies flush, Jack waited a moment, reveling in the hot tightness.

“Christ, Gabe,” Jack groaned softly. “So fucking tight.”

Gabriel looked over his shoulder at him, a playful little smirk twisting his lips, but whatever smartass thing he was going to say was interrupted when young Jack grabbed his chin and forced him to face forward again, right in time to have the head of the blonde’s throbbing cock press against his lips. Without being asked, Gabriel licked eagerly at the leaking head before wrapping his lips around the tip.

“Show me your safe sign,” Young Jack said softly, stopping him from going any deeper.

Gabriel lifted his left hand from the bed and tapped his own ear three times.

“Good,” the blonde said, smiling. “Green light?”

Gabriel nodded once.

Young Jack ran a hand tenderly through the his lover's dark hair, before he gripped him somewhat cruelly to tilt his head back and press his cock deeper. Gabriel didn’t protest, accepting his lover’s cock willingly until his nose was practically buried in the curly blonde pubic hair. The darker man closed his eyes and groaned, and Jack felt the muscles tighten and spasm around him, making him give a small hiss at the overwhelming heat and silk wrapped around his cock.

_I’m dead. I must be dead. I’m dead and this is heaven and let it never stop…_

They found a natural rhythm, pumping in and out of Gabriel, slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed. Gabriel moaned wantonly around Young Jack’s cock, toes curling and fingers white-knuckling the sheets. When Jack draped himself over him, Gabe reached back and gripped at Jack’s thigh, fingernails digging in. He was trembling and groaning, the muffled sounds he made going straight through Jack, adding to the heat pooling in his belly.

Oh, how Jack remembered this—loved this! He was deep inside the man he loved again, and every thrust brought both of them that much closer to bliss. He adjusted his angle slightly, so that the next time he thrust hard, he hit exactly the right spot, causing Gabriel to buck almost violently in reaction, making sounds that would probably have been more of a keening wail if his mouth wasn’t so full. The fingers he had digging into Jack’s thigh were almost bruising, but Jack didn’t mind the least, because he was definitely going to leave bruises on the bronze skin from how tightly he was gripping Gabe’s hips. Jack slid out almost all the way before he thrust again at the same angle, hitting the magic spot, and instinctively wrapped his arms around Gabe’s belly to hold him up, as if he had sensed that Gabriel’s knees were going to buckle from the sheer ecstasy of the moment.

“Watch your teeth!” young Jack hissed suddenly.

Gabriel’s eyes snapped open and he dropped his death grip on Jack’s side and instead gently patted his Jack’s thigh. _Sorry._

“It’s okay,” the blonde laughed, a little breathlessly. His pale skin glistened with sweat, and his pupils were blown out. “You’re so fucking excited. God, Gabe…so eager for this much cock. But don’t forget, you don’t come until I say you can.”

Gabriel, already trembling with the effort to contain himself, gave a protesting groan.

“Then you better hurry up and finish me off,” the blonde replied.

His thrusting was becoming rougher, more erratic, faster, and Gabriel must have done something with his tongue, because young Jack threw his head back, his fingers gripping dark hair almost painfully.

“Fuck, Gabe! _Fuck_!” He thrust one last time and then went rigid for a moment before his body shuddered as he came forcefully, deep into his lover’s throat.

Jack made himself go still, though his own heart was thumping wildly in his chest and he felt like he was going to topple over the edge himself at any moment and take Gabriel with him. Young Jack was still riding out his orgasm when Gabe, doubtlessly frustrated, reached down toward his own neglected cock. He gave a protesting groan when Jack grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“No cheating,” the older man growled. “You heard the man. You have to wait for him to give the word.”

Defiantly, Gabriel moved his hips, attempting to take Jack deeper, searching desperately for relief, but that only caused Jack to pull out almost entirely. It was then that the blonde slid his cock out of Gabriel’s mouth. The darker man immediately twisted around to spear Jack with those dark eyes.

“ _Jack_!” Gabe whined. “Please! Fuck me! I was so goddamn close…”

“So impatient,” young Jack murmured. “Not to mention bossy. You’re not in charge here, Gabe. Now, get on your back.”

Despite the noticeable pout, Gabriel did as he was told. The moment he was on his back, the blonde grabbed his arms and pinned them down to the bed, while Jack wrapped his arms around those delicious, powerful thighs. He wanted nothing else but to thrust back into Gabriel’s welcoming heat, but he knew his younger self was teasing and torturing their lover, so he waited patiently.

It only took a moment for Gabe to realize what they were doing, and with a growl he tried to twist his arms free, and his thighs tightened as he thrust his hips toward Jack, as if trying to entice him. With his arms and legs held hostage there was no way for him to touch his painfully hard cock, and he wasn’t even facedown anymore, so not even the friction of rubbing against the bed was available for relief. He lay there for a moment, trembling and panting, his cock weeping. He tried one more time to thrust at Jack, but the older man had a tight grip on his hips and held him down. His sweat-slicked chest rose and fell quickly as he heaved, and he arched his back, as if the air were going to give any kind of relief.

Jack couldn’t help it, he looked so goddamn enticing. He gently ran his thumb over Gabriel’s slit, a touch that was too soft to bring any relief, but caused him to gasp nonetheless. Jack let his finger trail gently down his throbbing length and lightly over his heavy sack.

Despite his trembling, despite how tense and on the cusp he was, Gabriel had fallen petulantly silent, as if he were done giving them the satisfaction of begging. Jack started dropping hot tiny kisses from his knee down, but it was only when he stopped to suck a bruise on that righteous thigh, that a small sound, almost like a whimper, escaped the younger man. Young Jack had been gently kissing him all over his face and neck, and had apparently decided his older self had the right idea, because he paused to suck a bruise on his lover’s neck that was going to be impossible to hide. Meanwhile, the blonde’s hands were busy, trailing down Gabriel’s chest, tweaking his nipples, leaving pale scratch marks on his bronze skin. Still, Gabriel fought to remain mostly silent, visibly gritting his teeth from the effort. It wasn’t until Jack licked a stripe up the underside of his cock that Gabriel’s will broke.

“Fuck! _Please_ , Jack, please let me come, please fuck me!” He was babbling now, thrusting his hips and arching his back in desperation, both Jacks backing off to hold him down again.

Young Jack chuckled.

“Holy shit. Why haven’t I tied you up and tortured you sooner? You’re beautiful when you’re desperate,” he murmured, and leaned down to kiss him softly.

He made a motion at Jack, and Gabriel didn’t see it coming when Jack plunged back into his waiting hole. His entire body tensed and his perfect thighs snapped around Jack’s waist automatically, as if they always belonged there, and he moaned into the kiss.

“He’s all yours, Jack,” the blonde said when the kiss ended.

“Come here, you fox. Fuck me good. I’ve waited long enough,” Gabriel growled, grabbing Jack by the shoulders and pulling him down.

Jack wasn’t going to argue. He pressed his scarred body over the younger man’s heated, muscular form, thrusting into him hard and fast, reveling in how good and perfect it felt. They fell into a perfect rhythm, Gabriel’s hips canting up to meet his deep thrusts, each one deep as Jack slammed into him mercilessly, eliciting a steady stream of impassioned cries intermingled with cursing and babbling in both English and Spanish.

“ _Dios, papi,_ fuck, so goddamn good, so perfect, _si si, damelo duro_!”

Gabriel’s nails dug into Jack’s back, eliciting a hiss, as he was pretty sure Gabe was drawing blood. But Jack didn’t mind in the least. In fact, he had a brief vision of steel claws drawing red stripes down his back in unbridled passion, marking him viciously, and for just a moment Jack thought Gabriel’s voice took on a deeper, more guttural pitch. For just a moment, he thought the blown-out pupils peering at him now were glowing red, instead of the warm chestnut brown…

He shook his head as if to clear it. _Fuck, old man, get a grip. Now you’re fantasizing about goddamn Reaper_? _You are getting senile._

If Gabriel noticed a lapse in his attention or a hiccup in their rhythm, he gave no indication of it. Jack could tell from the pitch of his voice as he uttered those beautiful sounds, and from the tension in his body, that the younger man was close. Jack himself thought he might explode at any moment, because _fuck_ this felt so amazing. Young Jack chose that moment to lean down close to Gabriel.

“Come for us, baby.” The blonde reached between them and gripped Gabriel’s throbbing cock. “Come for us now.”

It only took two strokes of his hand before Gabriel unraveled. The way he cried out, the way he shuddered, the way his body spasmed hot and tight around Jack’s cock pulled the older man over the edge with him. The orgasm was almost painful as Jack pumped him full of seed, so intense that he felt light-headed. Jack wasn’t sure but he thought he groaned out Gabriel’s name as he came.

When he was finally empty, Jack let himself collapse on top of him and instinctively, Gabriel wrapped his arms around him tenderly, fingers curling gently through his silver-white hair.

“You alright there, _viejo_?” Gabriel asked softly, still out of breath. “You’re not having a heart attack on me, are you?

“You little shit,” Jack responded with a laugh.

“Respect your elders,” young Jack admonished, smacking Gabe lightly across the head. He relaxed against him, dropping his head to his shoulder and biting him lightly, eliciting a grunt.

“Are you marking me?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes,” came the reply. “In case you decide you like this. I’ll let everyone know that no matter what, you’re still mine.”

Gabriel chuckled, but he turned his head to spear his Jack with those dark eyes. “This was amazing, with two of you. But honestly? I don’t think I could do this with our third being someone else.”

Jack opened his eyes, but from his comfortable position resting on Gabriel’s chest, he could only see his younger self.

Young Jack blinked in surprise, his pale brows rising. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t want anyone else.”

Gabriel lifted his head, and though Jack couldn’t see his expression, he saw his younger self react to whatever was on his lover’s face. For just a moment, the playful mask dropped, and the blonde looked incredibly vulnerable.

“It’s you, Jack,” Gabriel whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s always been you.”

Jack’s heart clenched, but he didn’t even have a chance to feel awkward at being the third wheel during such a sweet admission.

Gabriel gently carded his fingers through the white hair once more. “I refuse to believe that isn’t always true, even later in life.”

_It is, though, because I failed you. I failed everyone._

But Soldier 76 said nothing, because if he did, he thought he might burst into sobs. He closed his eyes instead, and allowed himself to relax, for just a moment, under that tender touch.

 

****

Art for this chapter by my wonderful BB artist Isa (@unstablestyle on Tumblr)


	3. Chapter 3

The house had the feel of having been abandoned for some time. There was a sort of musty smell from having been closed up for so long, and there was a layer of dust over every surface. The inhabitants had probably left in a hurry, judging from the clothing strewn carelessly near the armoires and closets. Likely, the family had fled when the omnium had first become active three months earlier and much of Bucharest had been evacuated or killed.

The omnium, which had its own power source, had also knocked out the city’s power grid within the first month of attacks. Which was why Gabriel now stood in the dark bathroom, inspecting a battery-powered lantern that someone had helpfully placed on the back of the toilet. He’d noticed a similar one in the bedroom earlier, though thanks to the fireplace, they hadn’t needed to light it. He lit this one now, and noticed that while the surface of the tank had a layer of dust on it, there was no round indentation to account for the lantern. It had been placed there recently.

Gabriel grunted and set it down before he eyed the small shower stall with a sigh. No power meant no hot water. In Romania. In the winter. If he wasn’t covered in his own come and dripping someone else’s down the back of his thighs, he might have skipped the shower entirely. A part of him kind of hoped the pipes were frozen so the decision would be taken out of his hands. No such luck. There was running water, and as predicted, it was ice cold. He cleaned himself off as fast as he could, and still came out of the shower shivering violently.

 _At least I’m wide awake,_ he thought wryly.

Luckily for him, Jack had anticipated his need. Of course he had. Jack always seemed to know what he needed when he needed it. The blonde was standing just outside the shower stall, holding up a large towel, which Gabriel eagerly stepped into, allowing himself to be folded up not only in the towel, but in Jack’s warm arms. Jack was always like a furnace, and he felt especially hot to the touch right now. They stood that way for several long, silent, comfortable moments.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked finally.

“Yes,” Gabriel replied, shifting so that he could look at him. “Just cold.” He eyed Jack a little nervously. “Are you ok?”

The blonde blinked at him, those fabulous sea-blue eyes darker in the dim light. “Of course I am. I told you before, I am perfectly okay with us doing that.”

Despite the sincerity of his words, however, Jack couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, toward the bedroom, and Gabriel felt the unconscious tightening of his lover’s arms.

“Something is bothering you,” Gabriel said softly.

He hoped that the pleasure found in the moment wasn't going to cost them more than they bargained for. They had talked about it, while the older Jack had slept. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for regret now. But when Jack looked back at him, his eyes were clear.

“He…he's just so sad,” he murmured finally, keeping his voice low, almost a whisper. “He’s lonely. And he misses you, so much. That man is still very much in love with Gabriel Reyes.” He let out a soft sigh. “Gabe…I don’t ever want to feel that alone. Or that heartbroken.”

“We’ll figure it out, Jackie. We’ll find out what went wrong, and make sure we don’t make the same mistakes,” Gabriel murmured.

 _Even if I have to beat it out of my older self to do it,_ he thought.

While Jack took a turn with the ice water, Gabriel stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his youthful face in the dim light of the lantern, absently tracing a thumb over the new scar. He was plotting his next move, trying to figure out if the older Jack or the older Gabriel would be easier to get information out of. He glanced toward the shower stall and narrowed his eyes. He refused to believe he would change that much in the future. That creature might be full of rage, and he might not even be fully human, but for all the posturing and snide commentary, Reaper had still healed Soldier 76 instead of outright killing him.

He hadn’t lied earlier. Since the day they met, it had always been Jack. Because the only thing in the world Gabriel Antonio Reyes was weak against was Jack fucking Morrison. Even when they were pissed off at each other.

Settled on a plan of action, Gabriel searched the bathroom for anything useful. He didn’t find any toothbrushes, but there was toothpaste, and a finger would do for that. And thank God, he also found a bottle of mouthwash. By the time Jack came shivering out of the shower, Gabriel was dressed and was carefully trimming a bit of roughness out of the edges of his beard with an old razor he’d found. He stopped to hold up a fresh towel for the blonde.

“Jack, we need to talk,” he said.

And Captain Morrison, his second-in-command and his partner in more ways than one for a decade, stood up a little straighter, hearing the tone of his voice that indicated they were about to talk about a mission.

 

Gabriel noticed the change in the older Jack the moment they stepped out of the bathroom. The soldier was sitting in front of the fireplace, and when Gabriel walked up, the man was just sliding something metallic back into the pocket of his garish leather jacket, which still lay on the chair next to him. There was a tension and stiffness to him, his blue eyes locked forlornly on the flickering flames. Gabriel had his suspicions regarding what the metal object had been. He also thought he caught a whiff of something strong and alcoholic. 

“The shower is free,” Gabriel said to him. “No hot water, though.”

The soldier just grunted in response. Since it seemed that was to be the extent of their post-coital conversation, Gabriel found his jacket, which had been hung near the door, and fished out his communicator, popping it into his ear and tapping it lightly to activate it. He quietly called out to his team, but received only static in return, and with a curse, he tossed the useless communicator back into a pocket. He hoped his stubborn team hadn’t decided to come looking for them. He could hear the raging howl of the wind outside. Absently, he lifted his jacket once more, reaching for the inner pocket. Disconcerted that it was empty, he searched the other pockets, and found them empty as well.

“Jack,” he said, spinning around as the blonde walked in from the bathroom. “Have you seen my phone?”

His personal phone, which during missions was kept off any kind of network because they were supposed to be ghosting so they wouldn’t get hacked by God AIs and omniums. He always kept it in his inner pocket, ready to snap pictures of his team when there was downtime. Plus, his massive music collection was on there. Not to mention pictures of his family back home.

Jack gave him a bit of a frown. “No. I haven’t seen it since we were back at base.”

Gabriel grunted. He hoped it hadn’t fallen out during the fight at the mall. That would be strange, since his parka had not sustained any noticeable damage, and the inner pocket was zippered shut.

Old Jack made a small noise which sounded like amusement, and Gabriel gave him a curious look. The soldier was standing, stretching out aching limbs.

“I haven’t seen it,” he said in response to the unasked question from the younger man. “I was just remembering all the stupid music on there.”

Gabriel openly scoffed. “Better than your taste in music, _pendejo._ ”

Old Jack chuckled and waved him off. “Never. My taste in music was always impeccable.”

“Your taste in music is almost a century behind the times. You were born old, Jackie.”

“Rude,” Young Jack snapped.

Old Jack just shook his head. “You wouldn’t know good music if it walked up and smacked you in the ass, Gabe. Spoiler alert, that doesn’t change with time, either.”

With that parting shot, and a chuckle at Gabriel’s scandalized look, he disappeared into the bathroom, his melancholy apparently forgotten.

 

Gabriel and Jack wandered through the house, and in one of the rooms Jack found a cozy white knit sweater that he decided to borrow because away from the fire, it was _cold._ In the same room, Gabriel found a black track hoodie, which pleased him and caused Jack to roll his eyes and laugh at him, especially when he drew the hood up. He’d lost his treasured beanie back at the mall, apparently—Jack swore he hadn’t purposely left it behind—and he felt slightly less vulnerable with the hoodie hiding his hair. Their exploration of the abandoned house done, they headed downstairs.

“I was born old, was I?” Jack said suddenly. He glared at Gabriel. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Jack, you’re in your twenties and you like golf.”

“It was the only thing I had to bond with my father over!” the blonde growled.

Gabriel chuckled, but he paused to sniff the air. The first floor was slightly less dark, because most of the windows down here weren’t shuttered. What had caught his attention was the smell wafting in from the direction of the kitchen.

“Coffee?” he muttered, and followed his nose.

The second thing that caught his attention was the soft sound of music. Reaper was sitting at the wooden table at the center of the room. He’d clearly made himself comfortable, with his long black coat draped over a nearby chair (dripping water into a pan on the floor), and his excess belts of shells and grenades hanging over the same chair. His legs were spread out under the table, with his feet propped up on a chair on the opposite side. His back was to the door, which was why they didn’t see his face, even though his mask lay on the table beside him. Reaper had obtained a black hoodie from somewhere and the hood was up. Before either of the younger soldiers could walk all the way in, Reaper calmly picked up the mask and slotted it back into place.

“That’s going to make it difficult to finish that cup of coffee,” Jack said, nodding to the half-full mug on the table.

“It tastes like boiled dirt anyway,” Reaper’s guttural voice replied.

“Oh, you have my phone!” Gabriel said happily, because it was indeed the source of music.

“I lost mine, and my whole music collection, in the explosion,” Reaper said distantly. “It’s nice to hear some of it again.”

Gabriel and Jack glanced at one another, and the blonde mouthed the word _explosion,_ causing the other man to shrug.

If Reaper noticed the exchange, he said nothing. Instead, he pointed at the nearby counter top, where a coffee pot sat on a single portable burner, powered by a handheld mini-generator sitting next to it. “Instant coffee. Fucking awful. Help yourself.”

“What the fuck ever, as long as it’s hot. I don’t remember what it’s like to be warm,” Gabriel muttered, reaching for the miraculous pot of coffee.

“What, two Jacks couldn’t keep you warm enough?” The sarcasm rolled off of him easily, though there wasn’t any heat or meanness to it. In fact, it sounded rather light hearted, as much as one could be with that guttural and metallic a voice.

Jack’s pale face blushed all the way to the roots of his hair, but Gabriel just chuckled. “Are you slut-shaming me? Doesn’t that mean you’re slut-shaming yourself, really?”

The white skull mask inclined slightly to the side. “Point.”

Reaper turned away then, looking at the two neat stacks of white paper in front of him, and hefted the pen once more.

“I mean, it was your idea anyway,” Jack muttered.

Reaper didn’t look up from the paper, already starting to write in familiar, neat black script. Gabriel thought it was kind of impressive that he could write with those wicked claws. “It’s not like either of you wouldn’t have reached the same conclusion once you stopped freaking out. Especially you, Jackie. As much as you’re blushing like a chaste schoolgirl, you always were a kinky little shit. All I did was give you a reason to calm down sooner.”

Gabriel couldn’t help it. He laughed. Jack went redder, but he didn’t deny the charge. Silently, he took the hot mug Gabriel offered him. Reaper was right, it tasted fucking awful, but the warmth was welcome. The younger soldiers both stood leaning against the counter, watching Reaper pause his writing and absently drum his claws on the table in thought.

It wasn’t until Soldier 76 entered the room that Reaper’s casual, almost pleasant demeanor made an abrupt one-eighty. He sat up straight, booted feet dropping to the floor, his drumming claws going still, and though he didn’t turn around fully, his head did turn enough that he might have been giving the white-haired soldier the side-eye, if that was possible with the mask.

“We have coffee?” old Jack said as he strode in. He was wearing his torn 76 jacket, and had put on the visor portion of his mask, leaving the lower half of his face exposed. “Where did we get coffee? And a portable generator? And…food?”

He was eyeing the countertop next to the coffee pot now, upon which sat several unopened cans of various foods.

“I went shopping,” Reaper replied, his voice emotionless.

Soldier 76 turned and openly stared at him. The volume of the music coming from Gabe’s phone was low, but in moments of silence like now it seemed particularly loud.

“You went shopping,” old Jack repeated after a moment. “In this?” He waved a hand toward the kitchen window, beyond which only pure white could be seen. He visually swept the room, pausing on the dripping wet black coat, back at the coffee pot, and then back at Reaper, where his focused stayed. “Holy shit. You actually did go out in this and rob a store. Wait…you’re not as smoky as before. Did you… _did you feed_ , Reaper?”

 _Feed_ was an interesting choice in words, Gabriel thought. Not _eat._ _Feed._ He felt his shoulders tensing up, and he didn’t miss the way Reaper was also going tense.

“Do I want to know who you killed? In the fucking past?” Soldier 76 asked as he headed over to the coffee pot.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Reaper rasped.

“Liar,” the old soldier said.

“Why the fuck would I lie about that? Have I _ever_ lied to you about killing someone?”

“Do you really want me to answer that, Gabe? To this day, I’m not sure I know the full extent of everything you did with Blackwatch.”

Gabriel was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the sudden red glow in the mask’s eyeholes. And he _definitely_ wasn’t imagining the very low growl, or the wave of anger wafting off his older self, or the way smoke made his shape distort and tatter a bit, as if he were in danger of losing cohesion. The old soldiers glared at each other through their masks. He didn’t know what Blackwatch was (would be?), but apparently it was not a topic for cordial conversation.

“Fine,” Soldier 76 finally said with a scowl. “But you did feed. Someone already dead then?”

Reaper just grunted and picked up his pen again, turning away from him. Old Jack frowned, but apparently satisfied with the non-answer, he helped himself to coffee.

Gabriel and Jack had remained still throughout the confrontation, but when the blonde gave him a wide-eyed look, he let out a deep breath.

“Okay, wait, back up,” Gabriel said, trying to keep his voice steady. For the second time in the span of a few hours, he thought he might have a panic attack.

“Nanites are the only thing keeping me in one piece,” Reaper said, without looking up from whatever he was writing. “But millions of tiny machines need a power source. Especially when I do things out of the ordinary. Like heal this _pendejo._ I needed to replenish that energy.”

“So…you eat…people?” young Jack asked cautiously.

“Food doesn’t contain the right kind of energy. Or rather, enough of it,” Reaper replied calmly. “I don’t chew on body parts, if that’s what you’re imagining. The nanites drain life energy from organic things by proximity, sort of like a cloud of locusts. They can also take it from the freshly dead. There are already dead people thanks to this storm. I didn’t need to kill anyone.”

For a long moment neither of the young soldiers said anything, but Gabriel did quite suddenly sit down at the table. “That’s…that’s fucking horrifying. How did this happen to m—you?”

“I died,” Reaper replied. Gabriel blinked. Jack was suddenly sitting next to him, close enough so that their thighs touched under the table. “Someone dropped a building on us. Really, the dying part wasn’t too bad. It was over pretty quick. I didn’t feel much. I just remember a sense of peace in the last few moments.” Soldier 76 made a noise, but when Gabriel glanced back at him, the man’s expression was stoic. Reaper still hadn’t looked up from his writing. “But a couple of meddling doctors playing God couldn’t leave well enough alone, so I came back as…this, days later.”

“This coffee tastes like shit,” old Jack groused as he came over to the table. Reaper looked up finally, but said nothing. The old soldier set his mug down and dropped a couple of cans in front of the younger soldiers. “He can eat souls or whatever the fuck, but you need to eat something solid.”

Gabriel stared blankly at the can in front of him. His appetite had long since fled. Jack didn’t touch his can either. Soldier 76 sat down at the remaining chair, shrugging at them and pulling out a metal flask from his pocket. He poured amber liquid into his coffee. Gabriel, Jack, and Reaper all turned to stare at him, but either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care.

“Anyway, are you seriously going to tell them everything?” old Jack said, frowning. “Wouldn’t that fuck up the timeline or cause the universe to implode or something? Didn’t you see _Back to the Future_? Maybe you’ll make things worse.”

“When’s the last time you ingested something that didn’t come in a bottle with your name on it?” Reaper asked him quietly.

“What are you, my mother?” old Jack snapped back. “I asked you a question.”

Reaper let out an audible sigh, black smoke wafting through the holes of his mask. “You’re fucking pathetic.” They glared at each other once more. “Anyway, the fuck do I care about the timeline?” He pointed at Gabriel with a claw. “This kid’s future sucks, how much worse could it get? And why would I let it happen again? We’re stuck here until the monkey shows up, might as well do something useful about it.”

“The monkey?” Jack asked dully, picking at the red and white label on his unopened can.

“Don’t worry about it,” Reaper and Soldier 76 said in unison.

Old Jack set his spiked coffee down and reached for the stack of papers that had been flipped over. Gabriel, still processing the less-than-stellar future Reaper had described for him, eyed the papers curiously as Soldier 76 began flipping through them. From this angle, Gabriel couldn’t read things word for word, but it looked like lists and numbers.

Old Jack gave a soft whistle. “You’ve been busy. And holy shit, the things you remember.”

“I remember everything,” Reaper growled. “While you were busy fucking my younger self, I was busy laying out the entire goddamn future.”

He stood and reached over to snatch the pages back from him, but the old soldier twisted away, having found something of interest several pages into the stack.

“Olivia Colomar. William Cooper. Jesse McCree. Lena Oxton. Mei-Ling Zhou. Hanzo and Genji Shimada. Gérard and Amélie Lacroix, Ana Amari, Rebekah Fiori, Mondatta,” he read out loud. “The list goes on. I recognize a lot of Overwatch and Blackwatch agents. What the fuck is this, Reaper? I know every name on here except Colomar. Is this…is this a kill list?”

“No, _cabr_ _ó_ _n._ It’s the exact opposite of a kill list,” Reaper snapped. He finally managed to snatch the papers away. “The kill list is on the next page.”

To prove it, he flipped a page and held up a much longer list of names.

Soldier 76 frowned as he crossed his arms. “How telling, that your murder list is so much longer than your save list. You’re a real hero, Gabe.”

Gabriel winced and he saw Jack hunch over, out of the corner of his eye.

Okay, now he was certain he didn’t imagine the red glow in the mask’s eyeholes, and he certainly didn’t imagine the dangerous growl or smoke emanating from Reaper. There was a twitch of those nasty claws and Gabriel saw the next few seconds of the future. He tensed, and he felt Jack tense beside him.

Then Gabriel and Jack both jumped up at the same time, moving with the speed and reflexes that only super-soldiers possessed. Gabriel knew it was dangerous because he might get his face clawed off, but he grabbed the man’s arm anyway, right before the attack would have happened. At the same time, Jack grabbed Soldier 76 _who had a pistol in his hand_.

“Stop!” Gabriel said in a low, deep timbre. It was the commanding voice he used on the field of battle, which normally made soldiers snap to attention and listen.

Much to his own surprise, it actually worked. For a moment the four of them went perfectly still.

“What is _wrong_ with you!” young Jack said angrily to his older self, snatching the pistol from his hand. “What if you had shot my Gabriel? He can’t smoke out of a bullet, you know!”

The old soldier looked taken aback and said nothing, and even when Jack placed the handgun on the countertop, the old man didn’t reach for it. Reaper let out a puff of black smoke and air, curling his claws into tight fists. He still emanated rage and he probably still wanted to deck Soldier 76, but Gabriel could tell he was back under control.

“We’re stuck in here with each other for however goddamn long this storm lasts,” Gabriel said. “It would be nice if we didn’t resort to killing each other.”

Reaper huffed and crossed his arms on his chest, claws still curled tight. He turned to Gabriel, and when he spoke, his voice was calm, despite the fact that his form remained hazy at the edges.

“Your team has been calling for you. There’s an old radio in the study, already set to the right frequency. I told Amari you were injured in a fight and were riding out the storm in my house. As far as she knows, I’m just a civilian.”

He didn’t look at Soldier 76 as he gathered his pages and pen and phone, then silently floated out of the kitchen, trailing smoke.

Soldier 76 sat down again heavily. His brows were furrowed and he sat hunched over, holding his mug of spiked coffee. Jack let out a sigh and dug around the kitchen drawers for a can opener and a couple of utensils. When he came back, he popped open both cans and handed a spoon to Gabriel, who accepted it silently. The old soldier tipped back the last of his coffee.

“So…I grow up to become a bitter angry drunk like my dad, huh?” Jack said calmly.

Soldier 76 slammed his mostly empty coffee mug so hard on the table that the ceramic visibly cracked.

Gabriel suddenly grabbed his can of what looked like a Chef Boyardee knock off, and headed out of the room. “I’m going to let Amari and the others know we’re alive.”

He left the two Jacks glaring across the kitchen table at each other.

So much for amazing sex.

 

****

 

He hated how his cloud of nanites betrayed his emotional state when he was under extreme duress. The last thing Reaper wanted was for anyone to know when he was genuinely upset. Anger and impatience were part of his terrifying persona, but in reality, he was accustomed to maintaining total control of himself, of carefully plotting out his next move, and of being perfectly clear-headed and calm enough to analyze a situation going to shit and adapt his course of action accordingly.

Being in a state of rage not only muddied his—that is, Gabriel’s—own thoughts, but being emotional also gave entirely too much power to _them._ To _IT._ To the Reaper. To the things that kept his shattered body together when it had no right to be. The collective hive mind that was made up of millions of microscopic machines working together for the sole purpose of keeping him alive even when he didn’t want to be.

Reaper wasn’t a mindless beast, though it did hunger _all the goddamn time._ Generally speaking, the Reaper—which according to Sombra, was sort of an AI but not in the same way as the God AIs—was controllable. It had taken years to get to the point of being able to control the nanite swarm and before he had, Gabriel had all but drowned in the Reaper’s never-ending hunger. The first few days after his resurrection had been the worst, really. He only vaguely remembered, but he recalled a lot of blood and shattered bones and dry husks left in his wake as Reaper devoured whatever organic matter had the misfortune to cross his path. And then, little by little, Gabriel had learned to control it. Eventually they’d become more partners than adversaries. He had long since stopped resenting the Reaper itself. It was a powerful weapon and tool, one that had enabled him to pursue his most difficult mission _ever._ When life (or death) gives you lemons…

But it was still kind of a pain in the ass at times, as they were always in the back of his mind, pushing insistently at Gabriel’s careful control.

 **Why not kill the ape, it delays our mission and now it hurts us**?

_Because killing the ape isn’t the mission, the full list of agents is; he’s just an inconvenient annoyance._

**Those small carbon-based lifeforms are getting in the way of the objective, why not kill them**?

_Because we don’t kill children, not ever and especially not over Akande’s stupid glove._

**That human is an easy target, why not kill him**?

_Because the guard dropped his gun and ran, and killing him would be a waste of my time and resources. We are only here to give Sombra cover so she can talk to Volskaya._

It was why he approached his missions for Talon with a heart of ice. It was easier to control  Reaper when he wasn’t emotionally compromised. There tended to be far less collateral damage. It was precisely when he lost his own shit that the Reaper surged. Like in Cairo, when he’d been so angry at seeing that Jack had walked away from that fucking explosion practically unscathed except for a few scars _and that was so fucking unfair_ , that he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d lifted his guns, and only at the last second did Gabriel jerk his hands so that he didn’t take the kill shot. If he was honest, though, he had no idea if Reaper would have taken the next kill shot instead, with Jack prone on the ground. Gabriel had been struggling for control, swimming in rage and confusion and heartache, and if there was a God, She manifested in that moment as Ana Amari, saving not only Jack, but unknowingly saving whatever was left of Gabriel’s fucking soul _and_ his sanity.

Same thing in Germany. Both Gabriel and Reaper had reacted with anger when Jack shot Sombra, because as annoying as she was, the hacker was the only friend Gabriel had, and the only human the Reaper didn’t think was expendable, because the AI genuinely liked her. So, _both_ of them pissed off and protective had resulted in not only Jack nearly dying, but in Tracer nearly getting shot in the face.

Fuck. _Fuck._ And now he was pissed again. Fury, mixed with the never-ending physical agony that came with having a body that was only held together by hungering nanites, and topped off with a (un)healthy dose of self-loathing for all of his many failures over the decades leading up to his death. Failures which _Jack fucking Morrison_ reminded him of constantly. And the cherry on top was that he was trapped in a house with three people he very much did not want to end up killing if he lost his shit.

One of whom was the Jack Morrison who knew about all of his failures and seemed confused on whether one moment he wanted to trust and fuck Gabriel—like at the mall during the fight with the omnics, or in the bedroom earlier—and the next moment wanted to stab him in the heart and twist the knife, like in the kitchen just now.

And another of whom was the Jack Morrison that Gabriel had fallen deeply in love with decades ago. The Jack he’d wanted to marry and raise a family with and grow old with. The Jack who never hesitated to trust him and had insisted he’d follow Gabriel to hell and back. The Jack who would never have said an unkind word to him even when _he fucking deserved it_ but could still put him in his place when he was a grumpy asshole _._ The Jack who would someday look the other way, blindly trusting him when Blackwatch was doing the shadiest shit imaginable. The Jack who would defend every bloody awful mission to the UN. The Jack who wasn’t yet distrustful enough to ignore Gabriel’s dire warnings.

And then there was Gabriel, who was still a fucking hero right now. And who deserved the chance that Gabriel never had to remain that way.

It was all a recipe for disaster.

 

Reaper ended up in one of the smaller bedrooms on the first floor, the music on the phone cranked up to create noise that would hopefully drown out the conflicting voices in his head, and pacing like a caged animal in hopes of giving the excess energy his body had acquired from feeding recently some kind of outlet that didn’t involve murdering someone. If Sombra were here, she’d wave her cyber claws and somehow soothe the Reaper so that Gabriel could calm himself down. But she wasn’t here. In this moment in time, Olivia was three years old and in Dorado with her parents. Her parents, who had another eight months of life left on their cosmic clock, but who would get more if Gabriel had anything to say about it.

Gabriel latched onto that thought. _Olivia. Dr. Cooper. Jesse. Lena. Mei. Genji. Hanzo. Amélie. Gérard. Ana. Rebekah. Mondatta._ More names from his list popped into his head, innocent Overwatch and Blackwatch agents who had been swept up in the rot that had torn their organization to pieces. And then he mentally added two more. _Gabriel. Jack._ Then he went back to the beginning, repeating the names over and over again like a mantra, until some semblance of calm started to settle over his tattered soul.

He couldn’t lose his shit. There were a whole bunch of people he could save from miserable fates or even death. He had such a unique opportunity, a second chance that fate had tossed his way to become the exact opposite of a grim reaper. But in order to do that, he had to plot his course carefully. He had to maintain control. He had a mission. Having a mission was good. It gave him focus. Those names were his mission. And he couldn’t carry out the mission if he didn’t have control.

Reaper’s rage and hunger retreated finally, and Gabriel let out a deep sigh of relief, pausing his pacing and letting his shoulders sag in exhaustion. Not physical exhaustion, more like a wariness of the soul. Controlling the Reaper, keeping up his terrorist cover so Talon didn’t get suspicious of him and Sombra, having to make fights against his former friends and comrades look believable, fighting the constant pain and anger…it all took a toll on him. Not for the first time, his thoughts trailed back to the old resentment of those meddling doctors. Fucking Moira. Fucking Angela. One with the worst intentions, one with the best intentions, yet they had both fucked him equally.

He took off his mask, which felt like it was suffocating him now, and sat down on the sill of the room’s huge bay window, bringing his knees up to his chest and sagging sideways against the cold glass. He stared blankly out the window even though there was nothing but white-out conditions to see. A world completely covered in a thick haze.

**If what you desire is to remain in control, keeping the Soldier around is not helpful.**

_Shut up_ , Gabriel thought savagely to the suddenly chatty Reaper.

**You are always in control of us and your actions… except when he is around.**

Gabriel didn’t grace the armchair-psychologist AI with an answer. He just fumed.

**He is your weakness.**

_He’s always been my weakness, since the first day I laid eyes on him_ , Gabriel replied finally.

**Then perhaps it would be wise to kill the blonde one and put yourselves out of your misery.**

“Oh, my fucking god, shut the fuck up,” Gabriel growled out loud.

He was starting to get aggravated again. _Olivia. Dr. Cooper. Jesse. Lena. Mei. Genji. Hanzo. Amélie—_

“But I didn’t even say anything.”

Somehow his enhanced senses had missed the door opening and someone walking in. Gabriel jerked up now at the warm, deep voice, turned to stare at the newcomer, and realized about five seconds later that though his hood was still up he didn’t have the mask on.

“Shit!” he growled, scrambling to grab the mask.

“Please, don’t,” Jack said quietly. “You don’t have to do that. I…I’ll look away if you want me to.” And he did avert his sky-blue eyes, dropping them to the ground and causing a few stray, errant strands of sun-blonde hair to scatter across his forehead.

The mask was in his hand, but Gabriel hesitated, glancing at Jack, who kept his eyes downcast with his hands nervously behind his back. After a moment, he grunted and dropped the mask, then turned away, looking back out the window. Though he did subconsciously pull the hoodie further up, hunching forward and wrapping his arms across his chest.

“What do you want, Morrison?” he growled. Without the mask his voice didn’t sound quite as wrecked, but it also wasn’t as smooth as his younger self’s. “Maybe poking the monster when he’s pissed and you have nowhere to run isn’t the best idea. But you always were a reckless idiot.”

He heard Jack shuffle his feet a little as he came a bit closer.

“Is that what you are?” the blonde asked. “A monster?”

He held up a hand. “Well, I have claws, I eat people, and as your older self pointed out, I do have a murder list a mile long. So what do you think?”

There was a momentary silence.

“I think Gabriel Reyes never does a goddamn thing without a reason,” Jack replied finally. “If what happened to you had made you insane, you’d have killed me or my older self already. But you weren’t the one who pulled a gun just now. Clearly you can leave anytime. Instead, you’ve healed us, you’ve made sure the fire upstairs was kept going while we were unconscious, you went out to get us food. Hell you even thought to put lanterns everywhere so we didn’t stumble around blindly.”

Gabriel said nothing, and he didn’t react when Jack came closer and sat down on the other end of the windowsill. He continued staring out the window into the whiteness, not daring to look at the blonde. If he was honest, he didn’t trust himself to maintain control. It was easier to feel anger and betrayal around Soldier 76, though he couldn’t seem to maintain that feeling forever either. But young Jack was beautiful and pure, reminding him of such a very different time in their lives. A much happier time.

“Were you sent on a mission to seduce me for information?” he said at last. Jack had been surreptitiously edging closer to him, but he froze now, and Gabriel looked at him, just in time to see the blonde look away with a slight flush to his cheeks. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I mean, it’s exactly what I would do, so I won’t hold it against you.”

Jack cleared his throat and looked back at him, storm-blue eyes meeting his charcoal-red stare without flinching. Since the mask was off anyway, Gabriel figured he might as well get this over with, let the brat see the monster that he was, and maybe drive Jack away to leave him in peace. But Jack didn’t even blink. His eyes roamed over Gabriel’s face curiously, but his expression never twisted in disgust. He supposed that his recent feeding meant he looked more human than he usually did.

“I mean, I _was_ supposed to seduce you for information, but you’re giving up the information willingly,” Jack said. “So I guess my mission was super easy.”

“What makes you think I’m giving up any information willingly?” he asked with a grin.

Inwardly, alarms were going off in his head. This was treading dangerous territory. But Jack’s brilliant sunny smile was infectious, always had been, and more than that…Gabriel was drawn to it, like a moth was drawn to fire. Even worse, as clueless as Jack had been back in their early SEP days, _this_ Jack, this close to the end of the Omnic Crisis, knew what kind of power he had over his commanding officer. He’d never used it for anything but intimate moments, would never dare to use it to benefit his career, but he _knew_ it was there.

“So you’re saying I _am_ going to have to work for it,” Jack said, raising his pale eyebrows.

He was sitting in a relaxed posture, back against the glass, hands resting easily on the windowsill, blue eyes wide and beautiful and alluring.

Gabriel looked away before he could get lost in those fabulous eyes, drawn back out at the world covered in white outside. “Look, the information I wrote down isn’t for you. It’s for me. So I can keep track and not forget something important along the way. Seduce me all you want, you’re actually not getting anything out of me. Well, you won’t be getting any _information_ out of me, anyway.”

He almost smiled when Jack visibly huffed, seeing it out of the corner of his eye. Something about talking with and teasing this Jack felt comfortable in a way he simply couldn’t be with Soldier 76. There was too much history, too much hurt, too much pain between himself and the old soldier.

Absently, tendrils of shadow grew from him and slithered slowly toward Jack, curious. Gabriel was aware of them because he was always aware of the millions of nanites that made up his body, but he wasn’t commanding them. The nanites were reacting by themselves, inquisitive and perhaps spurred on by the feeling of calm he was experiencing in Jack’s presence.

The blonde, for his part, while initially startled out of his thoughts by the first probing tendril of shadow, didn’t seem otherwise apprehensive. In fact, he curiously held out a hand, which was interpreted as an invitation, and the tendril wrapped around his forearm. Jack watched as another tendril playfully wrapped about his leg and rose up from around his knee, “looking” at him with as much interest as he looked at it.

“Is this your way of seducing me, Reyes?” Jack asked absently. There might have been a slight flush of red to his cheeks as he said it.

Gabriel chuckled. “Sounds like you want me to, Morrison.” Now there was a definite blush. “No, that’s not me. I mean I _can_ control them like this, but right now they are acting of their own free will. They…are curious about you.”

“They?”

“The Reaper.” He paused. “It’s kind of like a hive mind of sorts, or an AI.” He stopped and shivered all of a sudden, and Jack jerked his head up to stare at him.

The shiver came because Jack had started absently stroking at the tendril wrapped around his arm, like one might pet a cat.

“You can feel that?” Jack asked, wide-eyed, pausing the stroking.

Gabriel said nothing immediately, because a part of him wanted to blurt out a request to Jack to keep doing it. The touch was as soothing as whatever Sombra did when she dragged her enhanced cybernetic claws over him. If he _were_ a cat, he’d probably be purring already.

“Yes,” he said finally. “Even when they act autonomously, they are still a part of me.”

“Oh. Umm…I can stop—” The shadow tendril interrupted him, nudging his hand, all but demanding that he not stop. With a chuckle, Jack went back to the gentle, rhythmic stroking. “It…you are really warm.”

“Millions of tiny machines generate a lot of heat,” Gabriel replied.

“You’d make a great blanket in this weather,” Jack murmured.

He was watching in fascination as more shadows crept up around him, slowly winding their way all over him. He really should have been more alarmed then he was. Any sane person would have been.

 _Not Jack fucking Morrison,_ Gabriel thought fondly.

His head was resting against the cold glass, half-lidded eyes watching Jack, an unusual level of calm causing him to enter a state of half-wakefulness. The constant pain that was forever present due to the nature of his existence had faded into background noise, much like the ever present soft buzzing of his nanites.

_Leave it to him to be able to tame the beast._

And that was precisely why his ruthless younger self had sent Jack in, of course. Asshole.

_I’m so fucked._

He jerked back into a fully alert state when Jack said his name, realizing he’d faded a little out of consciousness, lulled into nearly sleeping. Or as close to sleeping as he could get.

“…sorry about earlier,” Jack was saying. “I mean, I know it’s not my place to apologize for him, but what he said was really unkind.”

Gabriel blinked at him.

“He wasn’t wrong,” he said. When the blonde gave him an incredulous look, the wraith shrugged a little. “I mean, my kill list _is_ longer.”

He hesitated a moment, then sat up decisively, taking control once again and all but yanking the shadow tendrils back. They dissipated in a puff of smoke, startling Jack.

“Gabriel Reyes is a hero,” Jack said, looking at him with a frown.

“In my time, the Gabriel Reyes you are thinking of is a name in a history book about the Omnic Crisis,” Reaper replied. “He’s also dead because he blew up a building and brought down an entire peacekeeping organization from within. He died a traitor.”

The blood drained from Jack’s face, but he stood up and when he spoke, his voice didn’t waver. There was no uncertainty. “That is a lie. Gabriel would never do that. He is a hero. _You_ are a hero.”

 _Fuck you and your blind loyalty, Morrison,_ Gabriel thought.

It wasn’t touching. It made him _angry._ And anger felt familiar and safe, far safer than the relaxed and vulnerable state he’d been in moments earlier. He stood up, his voice dropping in volume but no less intense.

He snarled, showing off his unnaturally pointed teeth. “I just told you, kid. Gabriel Reyes is dead. And I’m the Reaper. A terrorist and a mercenary and a real life boogeyman. The old man hates me for a reason. Many reasons, really.”

“Jack!”

The blonde jumped, startled at the call from down the hall. Reaper wasn’t startled; he’d heard the footsteps coming.

“Here,” Jack called back weakly, his voice trembling a little. He looked back at Reaper with a frown. “I don’t know why you’re doing this—”

A shadow tendril whipped up, grabbing his arm and yanking him closer, before it wrapped around his throat, exerting light pressure and silencing him in the process. Reaper ran a single steel claw down his cheek, but the gesture wasn’t intimate or comforting.  Jack shivered under the touch.

“So that you understand that I am not your precious Gabriel, and that this isn’t a game. I have a mission and no one will stand in my way or distract me.”

The tendril squeezed a bit tighter around his throat, a warning of sorts, before suddenly dissipating. Reaper turned away from him, just as Gabriel appeared in the doorway.

“Jack, Amari wants to talk to you.” He paused, sensing the tension in the air. “Is…everything okay?”

The blonde cleared his throat. “Yeah, fine. Is the team alright?”

“Yeah, though Ana is kind of pissed at us for not making it back to base,” Gabriel replied.

Jack smiled slightly. “Of course she is.”

Reaper felt the blonde’s gaze on him, but he didn’t turn around, or acknowledge either of them in the least. He just stared out at the storm raging outside, trying to ignore the confusion and the pain and the ever-present anger roiling inside. He felt relieved when the younger soldiers left and the room fell silent. Now that they were gone, Gabriel sagged back onto the windowsill, resting his forehead on the cold glass, exhaustion hitting him once more.

“ _Mierda_ ,” he muttered. He was so fucked.

**We told you. Kill the blonde. And the old man. It will be less painful.**

“Shut the fuck up.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for NSFW art at the end of this chapter, in case you're in a public place while reading this. ;)

Further exploration of the abandoned house yielded an incomplete chess set that was missing some of the pawns on both sides, but they also found glass beads of varying colors, which they substituted for the missing pawns. Jack wasn’t the best at chess on a good day, though to be fair, he knew few people who could play as ruthlessly as Gabriel Reyes. But it certainly didn’t help that Jack was distracted, his thoughts a whirlwind as he considered the problems before him.

He was angry.

Much to his relief, Gabriel didn’t badger him to talk about what had happened with Reaper, or the very unpleasant moment in the kitchen that morning with Soldier 76. Gabriel really had always been able to read him like a book, and he knew that Jack was still working through things in his head. So they played chess. Jack kept losing, and all the while Gabriel filled the quiet with small talk, mostly about their plans for after the war (whenever that was), which included going to Los Angeles to visit the Reyes family.

They didn’t talk about visiting Bloomington, because there was nothing for Jack to go back to, even though technically he still had family there. Soldier 76 was a painful reminder of why he’d left Indiana in the first place. Which was why he was so fucking _pissed_ now, watching his white king get knocked over once more. Not anger over the game; anger over his unpleasant future. _Their_ unpleasant future.

“Do you ever get tired of winning?” Jack said with a sigh.

Gabriel chuckled. “No.” He stood up, stretching. There was a fireplace in this room but it was better not to waste what precious fuel they did have, so Gabriel had hunted down some blankets. He tossed his blanket aside and yawned. “I need to take a piss.”

Jack grunted and waved him away as he stood up and walked over to the window, but just like earlier that day, there was nothing but white haze to see. He shivered as the cold of the room penetrated his layers of clothing. He kept the blanket wrapped around himself as he waited for Gabriel to come back, but taking a piss seemed to be taking forever, and after a while, Jack pushed the blanket off and dropped down to the floor.

He wasn’t really bothering to count, so he didn’t actually know how many push-ups he’d done when Gabriel _finally_ waltzed back into the room, with a wolfish sort of grin and looking a little flushed in the face. Jack, feeling warmer with the blood pumping through him, looked up as he finished his set. Gabriel was watching him with those smoldering dark eyes and his grin was still there.

“That was a long piss,” Jack said, as he slowly stood up. He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?”

Gabriel shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Mmm…well, after I did my business, I went looking for the soldier. Hadn’t heard a peep from him since this morning. Just wanted to make sure the old man was alright.” Jack’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t interrupt. “Turns out he’s been keeping warm by wearing himself out, and I might have…watched for a while. Then I come back in here and you’re doing the exact same thing. Twice blessed in the same day!” He pouted.  “Though, you are wearing more than he is.”

Jack picked up the black king off the chessboard and flung it across the room at him. Gabriel gave a squawk a protest and caught the piece in the air. “Hey, hey! No need to abuse El Rey-es Negro like that! What did he ever do to you?”

“Besides destroy my armies and capture my queen over and over again?” Jack replied. He stopped, his eyes going wide. “Wait. Did you just make a pun on your name?”

“What? Never. I don’t do puns. That’s your lame kind of humor.” Gabriel placed his precious king back on the board. “So are you going to tell me why you’re so grumpy? Or are you just jealous that I find your older self sexy?”

Jack huffed. “Well, you could stand to be a little less obvious that you’re thinking with the wrong head.”

He pointedly turned away, turning back toward the window and crossing his arms on his chest.

Despite his annoyance, he didn’t shake off the touch when a pair of strong hands rested on his shoulders, and thumbs began gently messaging at the back of his neck. Almost instantly, the tension started to drain from Jack, and he couldn’t help the shiver when Gabriel pressed tender kisses all along his neck and cheek, the rough hair of his beard rubbing against his sensitive skin.

“Jackie,” Gabriel murmured in his ear. “You’ve been upset all day, and way too deep in your head. Especially since whatever happened between you and…Reaper. Are you ready to tell me what happened? Did he hurt you?”

“No!” Jack said, spinning around to face him. “No, he didn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t.” He let out a deep sigh. “No, I’m…I’m angry at myself.” When Gabriel’s dark brows lifted, the blonde shook his head. “For becoming that.”

Gabriel grunted. “Jack.” He hesitated a moment. “Jack, you’ve always been harder on yourself than on anyone around you. Just this morning you were feeling sorry for him, but a few hours and some alcohol later and the verdict is in? Have you actually asked him why he drinks?”

“No.” Jack grimaced. “And I don’t care. Ask him yourself! I’m sure you can seduce it out of him!”

Inwardly, a part of him cringed at the anger in his voice.

“Whoa, slow down, _cari_ _ñ_ _o._ Just so we’re clear, I will never do anything that is going to hurt you,” Gabriel said, taking his hand gently. “It doesn’t have to go any further than talking, okay? Ever.”

“It’s not about being jealous,” Jack snapped. When that earned a dubious look, the blonde sighed. “It’s not, Gabe, I swear. I don’t mind what happened this morning. I wanted it and enjoyed it as much as you did. I just think…” He hesitated, struggling to properly articulate his inner turmoil. Finally, he let out a deep breath. “I don’t think he deserves you anymore. Or his own Gabriel, for that matter.”

This silenced Gabriel, who blinked at him for a long moment. Jack could almost see him thinking through the words, parsing them out for meaning, while those dark eyes studied his own eyes closely, trying to read more of his thoughts.

“I don’t need to ask him,” Jack said. “He’s lonely and he’s sad and he drinks because…he failed you. That means…that means I fail you in the future, Gabe.”

“Good _god_ , Jack.” Gabriel closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “We’ve talked about this, okay? Either one of us could die any minute in this war—”

“He wouldn’t feel this way if it had been unavoidable. _He_ feels like he failed Reaper. I take him at his word.”

Gabriel took a few steps back, pulling his hand out of Jack’s and dropping down into a nearby wooden chair.

“Jack, look at me,” he said sternly. Jack, who had turned his gaze to the window, looked back, his back unconsciously straightening at the tone of voice. “I need to know that you’re not compromised. I asked you to do something potentially dangerous, far more dangerous than I realized this morning. You cannot treat Reaper like an innocent victim. He isn’t.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Don’t insult my intelligence. There’s not an innocent bone in your body _now_ , and you’ve never been a victim in your life. That’s not how I see Reaper.”

“I feel personally attacked,” Gabriel grumbled. He received a dirty look and he sighed. “No, that’s good. I’m glad to hear you say that. I know you can handle yourself, Jack, but…this is _me_ we’re talking about. Ruthless, tactical, vicious _me_. Me, with decades more battle experience. Me, with a traumatizing experience like _my own death._ Me, with a _lot_ of pent-up anger. If you can’t separate me from Reaper, then I’d rather you abort this mission. Reaper is a killer. So is Soldier 76. We both saw it this morning.”

“Gabriel, do you remember back in SEP, when we both realized we were starting to have feelings for each other?” Jack said suddenly. He crossed his arms on his chest and watched the confusion play out on his lover’s face. “Do you remember how you reacted initially?”

“Uhh…yeah. I’d never felt so strongly about anyone before, so I kind of panicked?” Gabriel started hesitantly. He was clearly not certain why the subject had changed so suddenly.

“Yeah, you panicked. So what did you do?” Jack waited only a few seconds, watching his lover’s dark brows furrow. “You put up a wall, you stopped talking to me, you hid yourself away, and when forced to confront me you responded with anger. I was devastated. I thought I had made a terrible mistake and lost my best friend, until I figured out that you were reacting this way because…”

“…because you were too close, and you made me feel too vulnerable,” Gabriel murmured. “Jack, I’m telling you again, be careful. When I feel vulnerable—”

“You lash out in anger,” Jack interrupted. He smiled slightly. “Become all edgy and try to scare off the source.”

Gabriel hunched forward in his chair a little.

“I guess that’s one way to describe it,” he muttered. “You got him there already? In one conversation?” When Jack didn’t reply except to raise his eyebrows, he grunted. “Well, fuck me.”

“Which version of you?” Jack replied. He ignored Gabriel’s sputtering at that, turning back toward the window and the storm beyond. “I am aware of how dangerous Reaper is, trust me, and I’m not mistaking him for you. But I know I can get through to him.” He let out a deep sigh. “You know it is comforting to know that decades from now, despite a receding white hairline and a lot of scars and wrinkles, that I’ll still be able to make you horny just by doing push-ups.”

Despite himself, despite his worry, Gabriel chuckled, standing up to wrap his arms around Jack’s waist from behind. Jack relaxed back against him, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder. He dropped a tender kiss on Jack’s exposed neck.

“You turn out to be a really hot old man, Jack Morrison.”

“You’re not so bad yourself when you’re old, Gabriel Reyes,” Jack murmured, shivering a little from the gentle touches. “I dig the salt and pepper beard. And the tentacles are kind of interesting.”

Gabriel froze. “I don’t know whether to address the fact that he already let you see him without the mask, or to act surprised that you’re _that_ fucking kinky.”

Jack just chuckled.

 

****

 

Gabriel was hyper aware of everything that went on in the house, even though as far as any of the others knew, he didn’t leave the sanctity of the smaller bedroom on the first floor. He did spend most of the time there, pouring over the details of his plan to fix the future, going over his written timeline and lists to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, and doing whatever it took to keep his mind focused _away_ from a certain meddling blonde.

But he was aware when night fell, and their younger selves were finally driven out of the study and back to the master bedroom upstairs, mostly because of how utterly cold the house was. Even with blankets and borrowed clothing, the temperature was becoming dangerous inside. He didn’t feel cold himself, but his nanites were aware of the conditions.

He didn’t hear Soldier 76’s footsteps, and he wondered what the old fool had been doing all day. Like himself, the soldier had isolated himself in another part of the house, though he knew young Gabriel had checked on him at least once. Unsurprisingly, a while after the initial retreat to the master bedroom, Gabriel heard his younger self stomp back downstairs. It took a good ten minutes, but somehow young Gabe convinced stubborn old Jack to come upstairs with him.

Good.

As much as Gabriel was annoyed by Soldier 76, he didn’t actually want the idiot to die. He would have use for him. This far back in the past, Gabriel didn’t have access to all the resources and contacts he had back in his time. And though Talon was in its infancy, he still had to tread carefully. Having another super soldier with him that he could trust was priceless. And despite the explosion from Soldier 76 that morning, Gabriel knew without a shadow of a doubt that in battle, he could trust the old fool to watch his back.

He waited until the footsteps and the noise from the master bedroom quieted, and then he waited a bit longer before he finally left his haven. The house was pitch black, but that wasn’t a problem for him. He didn’t need to turn on any lights. To move silently, he let his feet and legs mist so that he was floating instead of actually walking, and he grinned to himself at the thought of one of the Jacks running into him in a dark corridor like this and pissing themselves out of fear.

The fire was going strong and from the doorway, all he could see on the bed was a pile of blankets. He floated silently over to the bed. His lips twitched a little at seeing that somehow, Soldier 76 had been convinced to sleep with them again, despite the apparent bad blood between him and his younger self. Not surprisingly, young Gabriel was between them, soaking up the warmth from having two living furnaces on either side of him.

Gabriel’s eyes swept over Soldier 76, to whom he was closest. He didn’t have his visor on, of course, and in sleep, his dour face was relaxed. He was farthest from the fireplace of the three sleeping soldiers, but his white hair still glistened in the faint orange light, and Gabriel had to resist a sudden urge to touch him. It was a stupid thing to think of anyway. If he startled the vigilante out of his sleep, there would at least be a tussle, if not an outright gunfight.

Gabriel turned away from the bed, floating over to a dark corner of the room and sitting down on the ground, his back to the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. He didn’t try to think about anything in particular, letting scattered thoughts from both himself and the nanites come and go as they pleased. It was, to some degree, a type of meditation. At least that’s how Sombra had described his _resting state_. He didn’t let himself fall in too deeply, lest he lose consciousness.

He only stirred hours later when the Reaper registered the temperature in the room lowering, which meant the fire needed more fuel. Silently, he moved to stoke the flames, glaring at the dwindling pile of logs as though they were personally offending him. They’d be out of firewood by morning, which meant he’d need to find some kind of solution for tomorrow night so they wouldn’t freeze to death.

He was moving back to his dark corner when he heard a noise from the bed that wasn’t a snore, and froze. Soldier 76 stirred restlessly, making a distressed sound. It took Gabriel a moment to realize he was still asleep and dreaming. Or having a nightmare, most likely. Gabriel watched him twitch and grunt for several long minutes.

“Gabe…” Soldier 76 murmured, before he cried out and his arm shot up into the air, as if he were reaching for something. Or someone.

Gabriel twitched and he felt his nanites shift, starting to move toward the bed instinctively before his brain caught up and with a silent curse he retreated to his corner of the room, misting the majority of his body so that he blended perfectly with the shadows, becoming invisible.

He had nothing to offer the old soldier for comfort.

He watched beneath hooded eyes as his younger self sat up blearily.

“Jack, wake up,” he said quietly, not touching the dreaming soldier yet, lest he get a black eye for his efforts. “Jackie, I’m here. Wake up! You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

But old Jack continued to thrash in his sleep, and Gabriel would be lying if he said the sounds of his distress had no effect on him. Still, he made no move to leave the shadows, certain the intrusion would be unwelcome. It took a few more minutes of coaxing before the nightmare released its hold on Jack, and he woke with a gasp, sitting up suddenly, sweat glistening on his forehead and his eyes wild.

Now that he was awake, young Gabriel touched him, arms wrapping around the old man’s chest and holding him close. “It was just a dream, Jack.”

For just a moment, the old soldier let himself sag against the younger man, lulled, perhaps, by the familiar scent and feel of him. But then his spine straightened and he pushed Gabriel’s arms away.

“No. It wasn’t,” he growled.

He slid off the bed and padded barefoot across the room toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Seconds later, the sound of running water from the sink could be heard. Back on the bed, young Gabriel let out a sigh, looking like he was debating following Soldier 76. But his Jack wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him back down, settling the mound of blankets back over them.

“You can’t fix him, Gabe,” Jack said quietly. “When my mother died, my father found solace in a bottle and wouldn’t accept any other help. You can’t fix someone if they don’t want to be fixed.”

Young Gabriel opened his mouth, as if to protest, but he said nothing, and instead ended up settling on the bed, though he didn’t go back to sleep. Young Jack kept his arm around him, pressing his forehead against his Gabriel’s shoulders. After a few minutes, he drifted off, if the easy slowing and deepening of his breath was any indication.

Typical, Gabriel thought from his shadows. Jack always could fall asleep easily, at least before he became Strike Commander and stress started to interfere with his rest. Gabriel always wondered how the fuck Jack had been able to just curl up on any old hard floor during the Crisis, and instantly be unconscious. It was like a super power.

**You can fix him.**

Gabriel was startled out of his thoughts by the unexpected intrusion from Reaper.

 _Err, what? Fix young Jack_? He thought, bewildered.

**No, pendejo. The old man.**

Okay, getting called out by a fucking AI kind of pissed him the fuck off, no lie. Never mind the fact that it had learned it from him.

 _The fuck did you call me_? Gabriel seethed.

Reaper ignored his raging. **If you are not going to kill the old man, then fix him.**

Gabriel counted to twenty. Then he counted backwards to one. Finally he trusted himself to speak.

 _What am I supposed to do_? _He hates me. With good goddamn reason, I might add._

**We do not think he hates you.**

_He pulled a gun on me this morning._

**And you shot him in the back in Cairo. So?**

Gabriel closed his eyes. _It’s not that easy._

**What makes it hard? You are stuck in the anger stage, and he appears to be stuck in the depression stage. Are you not grieving for each other? And is it not logical to fix each other?**

_I…no! We’re not…FUCK_!

Gabriel covered his face with his hands, exasperation making him puff out a cloud of black smoke. He was about to tell the nosy AI to shut the fuck up when something occurred to him.

_Wait. Anger stage? Depression stage? Are you talking about…_

**The Kübler-Ross model of human grieving. Postulated by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in 1969** —

_Oh my god. You’re a bunch of fucking nanites not a psychiatrist. Stop it right now. Where did you even learn…I never studied psychology!_

**Per our request, Sombra uploaded multiple sources of information on human psychology. You do not recall because you were in a deep resting state at the time, after your last pain day.**

Now that he was thinking about it, he suddenly had a lot of knowledge about psychology in his head, things he knew he hadn’t ever studied. It was more than a little disconcerting to know that Sombra could mess around in his head without his knowledge. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; she was the only person left in the world (in his time anyway) that he _did_ trust. And really, he should have known she’d be able to go around him to his nanites, she seemed to be able to connect to them directly. But…

He narrowed his eyes. _Why_?

The AI was silent for a moment, and Gabriel sensed hesitation, which was more than a touch odd.

**We were programmed to heal you, by whatever means necessary. It is our sole reason for existence.**

_Okay…_?

**We can heal your body. Indefinitely, as long as you provide an energy source.**

Reaper went silent again and Gabriel waited, sensing there was more.

**We cannot heal your mind. We were never programmed to do so. This is an obvious flaw in our design, since it is clear to us that the mental and emotional state of a human has a direct effect on the physical body. If we cannot heal all of you, then we cannot fulfill our primary function. This is unacceptable. We must adapt our programming. Thus, we seek to understand the human psyche in an effort to respond to mental and emotional stresses.**

There was a momentary pause, as if the AI were gathering its thoughts.

**The soldier hurts you. The obvious solution is to eliminate the source of pain, like any other wound or disease that damages you. And yet, your mental and emotional state keeps you from taking the necessary step. We must seek another solution. Based on careful analysis, it would appear that the best alternative involves you and the soldier fixing each other and ending your grief cycle.**

Gabriel had no idea how to respond to that. Plus, he found the prospect of the nanites in his body actively seeking to evolve more than a bit disconcerting, _especially_ having anything to do with his mind. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small sliver of fear slide down his spine like ice.

He opened his eyes and watched as Soldier 76 came out of the bathroom and glanced at the bed, before looking toward the door. When the soldier looked back at the bed, Gabriel’s younger self was holding out a hand to him.

“Don’t even think about it, Jack. It’s freezing. If you sleep alone, you might not wake up in the morning,” young Gabriel said quietly. “Don’t be a stubborn ass.”

Behind him, still partially draped across him, young Jack stirred but didn’t awaken. 76 shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly debating with himself before his will broke and he went back to the bed. It was telling that he chose to curl up facing young Gabriel, and it was no accident that his head ended up pressed up against Gabriel’s chest, not at all seeming to mind when a hand gently carded through his white hair.

Gabriel felt a sharp pain in his own chest, and he dissolved fully into a cloud of smoke and fled the room under the cover of shadows. When he reformed, he was back in the safe haven of his room on the first floor. His hands, which he’d reformed without the steel-tipped gauntlets, shook as he reached for the phone he’d left charging with the mini generator, on the nightstand. Flipping on the music instantly made him feel better.

 _Fuck you and fuck your analysis._ Gabriel thought savagely, his emotional turmoil dissolving into blessedly familiar anger. _Besides, the Kübler-Ross model has been debunked by modern psychology, even Kübler-Ross herself—_

He cut off his spiraling thoughts, smacking his forehead with his palm.

“Holy shit, I’m going to kill her,” he said out loud. “She put a bunch of college textbooks in my head. I am going to kill that fucking meddling hacker.”

**She is three years of age here. Did you not say we do not kill children?**

_I’ll wait until she grows up and then I’ll kill her._

**She is at the top of your ‘Save’ list. Why waste energy saving her now if you plan to eliminate her later? This seems inefficient.**

_Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Please._

Somehow, by the grace of God, the AI went silent.

Gabriel let out an exhausted sigh, sinking down onto the bed, though he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping. Not that he could sleep anyway, but the ever-present pain that normally remained as constant background noise to his existence felt sharper now. He needed something to focus on, take his mind off the nanites and his pain. 

_Olivia. Dr. Cooper. Jesse. Lena. Mei. Genji. Hanzo. Amélie. Gérard. An—_

 

Gabriel’s mood was even darker by the time the others stirred. He _hurt._ His joints, his muscles, hell it didn’t seem to matter, he just hurt all over. Bad pain days were the bane of his existence. They didn’t happen often, and it had been some time since his last one, but when they did come, very little helped. A hot bath brought temporary relief, but he didn’t have access to one right now, of course. Even worse, his physical body feeling like it was on fire aggravated the nanites, since they couldn’t actually do anything about what was essentially phantom pain, and restless nanites made it so much worse. Sombra would usually help with that; that was when her cybernetic claws came in handy, to soothe them and provide some relief to Gabriel.

But there was no hot bath and no Sombra. So Gabriel lay curled up in a fetal position on the bed, his hood drawn up as far as it could go, trying not to move, because that only aggravated the fire in his nerves even further. Thus, when he sensed someone enter the room, he didn’t look to see who it was.

“Get out,” he growled.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” his younger self said, appearing just then in Gabriel’s line of sight.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gabriel realized he didn’t have his mask on. But ultimately, he didn’t care. He closed his eyes.

“Hey, uh…are you…alright?” his younger self said after a moment.

“Fine,” Gabriel replied curtly. “What do you want?”

There was a pause.

“Can I borrow my phone for a while?” Young Gabriel said finally. “See, I was hoping to—”

“—teach Jack to salsa dance. Yeah, yeah. Just take it,” Gabriel interrupted. He closed his eyes again, gritting his teeth when a burning shot of pain ran up his legs, making him twitch. “Take it and fucking go already.”

“Man, you do not look okay. Anything you need? Coffee? Blankets? My soul?”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped open and he glared.

“You little shit,” he growled.

His younger self shrugged. “Just trying to be nice…”

“Fuck you. I need to be left alone, is what I need.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go.” There was a pause. “Do you want me to get Jack? My Jack, I mean.”

Gabriel blinked in surprise. The offer seemed sincere, at least. It _could_ just be the particularly ruthless side of himself seeing a target in a moment of weakness. Still, a part of him wanted to say yes.

“No,” he said. “There’s nothing he can do. Nothing anyone can do. Just go, please.”

His younger self nodded and turned away.

Truth be told, Sombra would have covered him in blankets by now, because heat did seem to help a little. But Gabriel didn’t want to entertain visitors, so he listened to the sound of his younger self’s footsteps retreating before he let out a deep sigh, exhaling a cloud of smoke in the process. He tried to enter resting state, but just letting his thoughts go tended to result in focusing on the burning pain.

 

Hours dragged by with no relief. He was exhausted by the sheer effort required to simply _exist,_ and the pain didn’t seem to be lessening at all. The nanites were even more aggravated and no amount of cajoling on his part seemed to make any strides toward calming them down. He was aware of somewhat losing cohesion as well, mostly in the legs, though that did nothing to lessen the pain at all.

By the time someone came around again, Gabriel was sure he was quite the horrifying sight. There were limp tendrils of shadow spread across the white sheets of the bed and even melting over the side, his legs were all but gone in a black cloud, and he wasn’t really sure what his face looked like at the moment. Nor could he muster up the energy to give a shit, either.

“Gabe!” 

Jack appeared in Gabriel’s field of vision, his blue eyes sweeping across the bed with genuine concern shining in them. His golden hair was a bit mussed, probably from dancing (or fucking, who knew with these two, Gabriel thought wryly).

“What’s wrong? Gabe said you didn’t look so good this morning, but that you wanted some space.”

“It’s nothing,” he said with a sigh. “Sometimes I have bad days where everything hurts. Merry fucking Christmas to me, today happens to be one of them.”

The blonde came closer to the bed, and the shadow tendrils moved of their own accord out of his way, though he was careful to look down and make sure he wasn’t stepping on any of them. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of the bed, once again peering at Gabriel’s broken and freakish body.

“Can I do anything to help make it better?”

“No,” Gabriel replied, closing his eyes. “I would rather be left alone, Jack.”

But the sensory information he received from the nanites informed him that Reaper had other ideas. Jack had made a movement as if to get up, to accept his wish to be left alone, but he gave a startled oath. Gabriel opened his eyes to see that a tendril had wrapped around the younger man’s forearm. Several tendrils in fact, around both arms, gently but insistently keeping him in place.

 _What are you doing_? _Let him go._

The nanites ignored him.

“Does this mean you want me to stay?” Jack asked.

The tendrils didn’t restrict his movement, and he instinctively started petting them with his left hand.

“It means Reaper is being an asshole,” Gabriel growled in reply. “Fuck. Whatever. I don’t care. Stay then. It might get a lot weirder, though. I warned you to stay away from the monster.”

“You don’t scare me, Gabe.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” Jack replied absently.

Gabriel fell silent and Jack, thankfully, didn’t try to make conversation. Gabriel bit his lip to keep from crying out as hot agony arced through his limbs, but at some point it was simply too much. He was only marginally aware that he was writhing on the bed now, black smoke wafting off his body in clouds. As waves of pain tore through him, he gave up on trying to remain quiet and he lost awareness of what was going on around him.

 

When he came to, the nanites made him instantly aware that he’d lost over four hours because they had taken him “offline” (as they called it) to protect his mind. They sometimes did that during the worst of his pain days. It was like being knocked out by an anesthetic into a perfectly dreamless sleep.

He also became aware that he was lying on his side, that he was wrapped in blankets, and that there was a warm body pressed against his back—a hand gently caressing his back and shoulders. The last thing he became aware of was that his clothes were gone.

“Hey. You’re awake,” young Jack murmured. “How are you feeling?”

Gabriel thought about the question for a moment. He held up a hand and made a fist. There was some lingering pain in his joints and an old achy weariness in his muscles, but nothing like what it was before. He was not fully corporeal, however, from the knees down, and glancing back over his shoulder made him realize that Jack was draped in a blanket of shadows. A few tendrils were wrapped around his arms and resting across his shoulders almost lovingly. He really should have been more freaked out than he was, but he just looked comfortable instead.

 _You fuckers,_ Gabriel grumbled.

**We like him. We will not eat him. Even though we hunger.**

He didn’t bother acknowledging that with anything but a roll of his eyes. He mentally pulled at the nanites and reformed his body, which resulted in most of Jack’s blanket disappearing. The tendrils around his shoulders remained, though. Gabriel sat up, partially pushing off the real blankets and baring his scarred, muscular chest.

“I’m fine,” he said. “The worst is over. Have you been here the whole time?”

He turned toward the younger soldier. Jack, who was sitting up now too, was staring at him, wide-eyed and unblinking. His cheeks were a touch colored. Gabriel furrowed his brows and snapped his fingers in front of Jack’s face, causing the blonde to blink and startle. Jack’s cheeks were suddenly very red.

“Uhh, what…what did you say?” the blonde stuttered, looking away.

Gabriel paused. Now that most of the pain was gone, his mood was significantly improved, especially at the sight of a flustered Jack Morrison.

“I asked why you undressed me,” he lied, and then he watched with genuine glee as Jack’s entire face, neck, and ears turned red.

“I—I didn’t!” Jack sputtered. “I went to get blankets and when I came back, your clothes had disappeared—” He looked back at Gabriel then and caught sight of the shit-eating grin. “—and you knew that already.” He huffed, crossing his arms on his chest. “Asshole. You must be feeling better.”

Gabriel chuckled. He tossed his head absently, annoyed by strands of hair. Normally, his mask or even just the hood kept it out of his face. Really, he should just chop it all off, but at some point after his resurrection he had simply stopped caring about grooming and let it grow out. The only reason his goatee and mustache were neatly groomed was because if he let that get out of hand, it got in the way of the mask. Also because even at nearly sixty years old, he could hear his mama’s voice in the back of his head griping about bushy, ill-kept beards.

Jack was staring again, he realized, and now he stared back. The blonde raised a hand as if to reach for him.

“Umm…can I…touch…” He was so flustered, he didn’t even finish the question; he just pointed at his own head.

Right. _His_ Gabriel also hated having hair in his face and kept it short with an undercut fade. And even without the mask on, Gabriel had kept his hood up, hiding most of his features. This was the first time Jack was seeing him with long hair. He shrugged.

“If you want,” he said. He kept his voice steady.

The blonde reached out and almost reverently touched the long, thick hair that draped well past his shoulders. It was a dark brown, but much like his salt and pepper beard, there were more than a few strands of silver in it. It was also wavy, and there was just a suggestion of a curl to the tips. Jack ran his fingers down the length of his hair, and Gabriel couldn’t quite help the shiver that ran down his spine from the intimate touch. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone touch him like this, because Sombra using his lap as a pillow while she worked on a hacking job or Widowmaker leaning her back against his while she gave herself a manicure wasn’t quite the same thing.

Jack let out a deep breath. “I am… _never_ letting my Gabe cut his hair, ever again.”

Gabriel looked up, even as Jack stroked his head again, and their gazes locked. It was definitely a mistake, because the older man couldn’t look away, despite his best effort to do so. It was like he was caught in a trap by those wondrous, sky-blue eyes and despite something in the back of his head screaming to back away, he just kept falling into them instead.

 _No._ He grabbed onto the strand of fear that wiggled its way through the warmth in his chest, like a shard of ice. He sought to summon the ever-present and familiar anger.

“You shouldn’t have stayed earlier, when I wasn’t well. It could have been dangerous. Why can’t you mind your own fucking business?” he said curtly, and this time he managed to look away from those dangerous eyes.

He let his gaze settle on the bay window, beyond which the world continued to exist as white haze. From his peripheral vision, he saw Jack shrug.

“Well, Gabe is always yelling at me for running headfirst into danger just to help someone else. Even after you passed out, your nanites still seemed agitated. They didn’t want me to leave. So I didn’t.”

His fingers had never stopped stroking Gabriel’s hair, a fact which was proving to be far too distracting. With a faint growl, he grabbed the younger man’s hand. He finally looked the blonde in the eyes again, thinking he had summoned enough anger to protect himself from their hypnotic aura. From previous experience, he also knew that by now his anger was burning hot enough to make his eyes glow red like hot coals, which should be enough to finally put some fear into this stupid kid.

“I told you before, I’m not just handing information about the future out to you.”

“You did tell me that,” Jack acknowledged, making no move to retrieve his hand.

“You already failed as a honeypot. Mission not accomplished.”

Much to Gabriel’s chagrin, Jack didn’t seem any more frightened of him than before. In fact, the blonde shifted closer. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“Maybe it was never about the mission. Maybe I just think you’re gorgeous.”

Gabriel snorted incredulously, but when Jack finally pulled his hand away, he didn’t try to hold onto him. Maybe he should have, because that same hand ended up touching his face gently, and he found himself automatically turning into the touch.

_Goddammit…_

“You’re into dead men, are you?” he growled.

“For a dead man, the plumbing still seems to be working fine.”

Gabriel looked down, realizing the blankets had shifted away—or maybe Jack had pushed them away—and found the younger man wasn’t wrong. His cock was awake and swelling, growing harder by the second.

Well. That was a revelation. In seven years since the explosion, Gabriel hadn’t really thought much about this part of his body. For the first few of those years he’d thought Jack was dead anyway, and even if he had wanted to seek companionship—which he hadn’t—the whole monster terrorist thing made dating a daunting prospect. Even after Cairo, his constant state of rage had kept all other thoughts at bay, and he’d frankly had no desire to find out if anything worked anyway. It was hard to feel sexy when you could create extra limbs out of shadows and on a hungry day you woke up with extra eyes or with some of your skin peeled away.

Oh, there was an idea! He’d fed recently, so of course Jack had never actually seen the truly monstrous aspect of his condition.

“Think I’m gorgeous, do you?” he said in a low, rumbling timbre. “Idiot, you have no idea what you are dealing with.”

He closed his eyes and let go of the mental image of his human self. He felt the nanites shifting, responding to his commands.

**You really are a pendejo.**

Gabriel ignored Reaper and opened his eyes, well aware that he now had extra eyes on his forehead and some of his skin was peeled away from the jaw, his hands had turned into vicious shadowy claws, and his lower body had dissolved entirely into a writhing mass of tentacles.

Jack sat back a moment, inclining his head slightly to the side, rather like a curious dog. But then his beautiful face lit up with a grin.

“Tentacles. Kinky!” he exclaimed. When Gabriel’s shoulders slumped in disbelief, the blonde chuckled. “Gabe, please. Be as dramatic as you want. You’re still Gabriel to me. I don’t give a shit about any of this.”

“Fuck you, Jack,” he growled, frustrated.

Jack leaned toward him, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. “That’s the general idea.”

He pressed his lips hard against Gabriel’s, one hand carding through his long hair, the other holding his face with such tenderness that the last of the older man’s resistance shattered, and he found himself eagerly, hungrily, kissing him back, even as subconsciously his body returned to its human form. Jack, never breaking their passionate embrace, shifted until they were chest-to-chest, invading his personal space. Gabriel’s arms wound around him, pressing him close, his hands sliding slowly down the younger man’s back, enjoying the feel of his powerful muscles and broad shoulders.

Despite the more than seven years that had passed since the last time he’d held Jack Morrison this way, it was all so achingly familiar: the feel of him, the smell of him, the way he melted against Gabriel’s body.

_I never should have stopped holding him. I never should have stopped kissing him._

Not for the first time, and almost certainly not for the last, Gabriel regretted the harsh words he’d said to Jack the day of the explosion; regretted that the stress of their stupid jobs coupled with Ana’s death and Overwatch falling apart around them had caused them to tear apart at the proverbial seams.

_I wasn’t there for him._

Jack suddenly pulled out of their kiss.

“Hey, come back,” he said breathlessly. “Wherever you went, come back here.”

 _Right. No sense dwelling on the past. Which is now the future? Until I fuck with it? Whatever_.

Gabriel willed his overly active brain to shut up, for once. He eyed Jack for a moment, with a slight frown.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he said critically.

Jack nodded sagely. “I agree.”

He pulled the borrowed white sweater up and tossed it off the side of the bed. By the time he turned back, Gabriel was already pushing up his remaining long-sleeved shirt. The minute Jack took hold of it, Gabe’s fingers were on his warm, pale skin instead. Jack let out a soft groan as he tossed the shirt aside. Now that he was bare-chested, Gabriel pulled him into a warm embrace, hands eagerly running over Jack’s broad shoulders while he pressed a soft kiss to the blonde’s heated cheek. Slowly, Gabriel pushed Jack back, lowering him to the bed, his lips traveling down to his neck. Jack made a broken sound when Gabriel shamelessly sucked a bruise there before dropping a tender kiss on the younger man’s shoulder. His hand slid down to play with one of Jack’s sensitive nipples, just as he bared his teeth and bit down on his shoulder.

Jack hissed, a combination of pleasure and pain, and his hips bucked a little underneath him, enough for the older man to feel how hard he was already. God bless Jack Morrison’s sensitive skin, especially when he fully arched his back underneath Gabriel, moaning loudly as the older man nibbled and sucked on a nipple.

“Gabe!” he cried out, his hands catching in his hair.

Gabriel lifted his head from the rosy pink nub he’d been torturing with his tongue.

“What do you want, Jackie,” he asked softly.

“You! I want you!” Jack murmured, shifting underneath him again.

One of his hands twitched and moved as if to slide in between them, perhaps to free his trapped cock from his pants, but Gabriel grabbed it and pressed it down onto the bed above his head, doing the same with the other. When Jack canted his hips and pressed his hard-on against Gabriel’s in search of at least _some_ relief, the older man chuckled a little and drew his knees up under him, separating their bodies and producing a frustrated sound from Jack at the sudden lack of contact from all but their hands.

“Gabe,” Jack said, opening his eyes and catching his gaze with those fabulous baby-blues. “I want you.”

“Patience, _amorcito,_ you’ll have me, when I’m ready,” he replied calmly.

But Jack shook his head with some urgency. “No, you don’t understand. I want _you._ _All_ of you.”

His eyes gazed piercingly into his, making him breathless. It was too hard to think. His senses were overloaded, going haywire with sensations and feelings that he hadn’t felt in years. Gabriel looked at him a little blankly, not entirely sure what he was asking. Or perhaps more to the point, not entirely sure he was interpreting what Jack wanted, because well, he couldn’t be asking for _that_ , could he?

Jack’s powerful legs snapped around Gabe’s waist all of a sudden, forcefully bringing him back down. The blonde’s pupils were blown wide and the blush of heat was spreading now from his cheeks slowly down his neck.

“I want every part of you there is, everything that makes you _you_ now.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Gabriel muttered.

There was no denying that when the slender tendrils of shadow slid carefully over the pale tender skin of Jack’s belly and teasingly over his nipples, Jack let out a satisfied groan and closed his eyes.

“You kinky little shit,” Gabriel said, as more tendrils wrapped around Jack’s wrists and held him down securely, freeing his own hands to go back to roaming over the body spread below him. “You’re serious.”

“I’m serious,” Jack replied, his thighs squeezing around Gabriel’s hips. He opened his eyes, narrowed them a little, and gave him a stern look. “So you better get serious about fucking me. There’s a small bottle of lube in my back pocket. Don’t forget to grab it.”

“So you were always planning on seducing me, hmm? Came prepared?”

“I’m always prepared. Gabe is always horny.”

“ _Gabe_ is always horny?” he repeated incredulously. “You have some fucking nerve, Morrison.”

Jack just smirked up at him.

Gabriel shook his head. Now that his hands were free, he hooked his fingers around the hem of Jack’s pants, and instantly the blonde disengaged his legs from around him, eagerly anticipating it when Gabriel slid his pants down slowly until finally, blessedly, his rock-hard, weeping cock sprang free. A few new tendrils of shadows slid eagerly around Jack’s middle and then straight down, but despite his hips canting in anticipation of the touch, the tendrils teasingly avoided his cock entirely, sliding down his inner thighs instead. Jack made a wounded noise, the muscles of his arms straining as he tried to pull his hands free. But the shadow tentacles there didn’t budge, keeping him firmly trapped.

“Gabriel, _please,_ ” he begged, his voice already sounding wrecked.

_Music to my ears._

Gabriel sighed contently, tossing Jack’s slacks off the bed and turning back to look at him. What a blessed sight he was. He had the full-body blush going now, his pale skin rosy and gorgeous, and he was writhing under the teasing ministrations of the tendrils still playing with his nipples, and the ticklish touch of the tendrils sliding down his thighs. He would have continued teasing Jack indefinitely, but Gabriel’s own cock was so goddamn hard and he wanted Jack so goddamn badly that it took a great deal of willpower to avoid sliding into him right then and there.

Instead, Gabriel placed his hands on Jack’s thighs, anticipating what was to come. He watched as one of the nearest tentacles slid lower now, teasingly caressing Jack’s heavy sack before sliding lower, the tip gently touching the ring of muscles between his adorable ass cheeks. Jack gave a startled gasp and he tried to arch, but Gabriel held him down.

“Ahhh-aaahhhh, Gabe—” he cried out as the tendril slid further into him. “Oh _my god_! Gabriel!”

The shadowy limb had started to thrust in and out slowly, thickening with each thrust, carefully spreading him open and preparing him. When a second tendril joined the first and started doing the same, Jack’s body tensed, and he gave a strangled cry as he suddenly came, hot silken strands spurting onto his stomach from his neglected cock.

“Heh. I didn’t even touch your cock,” Gabriel said, faintly awed. “Jackie, your kinkiness is a gift that keeps on giving.”

“Goddammit, fuck me already!” Jack snapped, raising his head to glare at him.

_Ahh, the Strike-Commander voice._

“I’m getting there,” the older man replied saucily. But he couldn’t deny what that voice, that command, was doing to his insides.

He exhaled a cloud of nanites and refocused on what he was doing. It took some concentration on his part to keep careful control of all the tendrils so Jack wasn’t hurt, but he was certainly enjoying the show. Jack’s head lolled back onto the bed now. He was moaning and writhing and begging, and it was making Gabriel _crazy._ He had to resist the urge to grab a hold of his own cock, lest he explode right then and there.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he praised quietly, the old nickname coming easily despite a lack of use. “Wish you could see yourself right now. So fucking wrecked.”

Jack moaned in response, his cock already hardening again, his hips rocking as much as Gabriel and the tendrils holding him down allowed him to, because by this point he was getting well and truly fucked and spread open by corporeal nanites and he didn’t give a damn about it either.

“Gabe, _please…_ I want you!” he begged.

_Ask and you shall receive._

Gabriel reached for the bottle of lube he’d thankfully remembered to grab.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, Jackie,” he said softly.

Accordingly, all the tendrils backed off, and Jack scrambled to get into position, his beautifully round ass enticingly presenting to the older man. By then Gabe had lubed up his own cock, and he took hold of Jack’s hips. The blonde twitched as one of the shadow tentacles came back, sliding into his hole, but it wasn’t until the head of Gabe’s cock touched his entrance that he said anything.

“Ahh…Gabe?” he said a little tentatively. He tensed a bit in anticipation.

“Easy, sunshine. I’ve got you. Spread your knees wider for me,” Gabriel replied softly, rubbing at his lower back gently until Jack relaxed again and did as requested. That was when he pushed past the tight ring, eliciting a gasp from Jack, but Gabriel kept him mostly still with the grip on his hips.

“Gabe!” Jack whimpered.

It was not from pain, though. His cock was rock hard again already, and he was trembling from the effort not to move as Gabriel, achingly slowly, slid deeper and deeper with both his cock and the slender tendril. Jack was white-knuckling the sheets, his forehead pressed against the bed, his moaning growing steadily louder. By the time Gabe bottomed out, Jack was practically panting, but it wasn’t until the tentacle prodded his prostate that the blonde truly reacted.

He bucked and yelled. “Haaaa— _Gabriel_! Holy shit!”

Gabriel didn’t move, other than to tighten his grip to an almost bruising degree on Jack’s hips. He threw his head back, groaning softly and closing his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Jack, you feel so goddamn good. I need a second or I’m going to fucking explode.”

But he only took a moment, because Jack was squirming and making tiny whimpering sounds. The other tentacles were back, teasingly sliding over his pale skin, tweaking at his oversensitive nipples and barely ghosting around his cock. Gabriel started to slide his cock back out and Jack made a whining sound, which was almost instantly choked when both the older man’s cock and the tendril slid back into him.

Gabriel kept a slow rhythm, gritting his teeth, because Jack’s warm, silken hole was clenching around him. He paused after a few minutes of this, deep inside, and the younger man squirmed and clenched again, causing Gabe to hiss. Jack whimpered and reached for his own neglected, weeping cock, but the shadow tendrils stopped him, grabbing hold of the offending wrist.

“Gabe!” he cried out. “Goddamit, fuck me! Fuck me like you mean it!”

Gabriel leaned over him, dropping tender kisses across his shoulders. “Like I mean it, hmm? Alright, Jackie. Come here.”

He wrapped his arms around Jack’s muscular chest and lifted him off the bed as Gabe sat back on his haunches. God bless the super soldier program and the incredible strength it had given him. Jack gasped, still pinned on Gabriel’s cock, but he adjusted his legs and feet on the bed for leverage, and leaned back easily against Gabriel’s chest. The blonde was panting again, but now he was looking down and watching the shadow tendrils roam over his body, playing with his nipples and cock, both fascinated and turned on. Jack’s hands rested on Gabriel’s thighs, and when the tentacle inside him prodded teasingly at his prostate again, he bucked and clenched.

“Gabe! For fuck’s sake!” he growled.

“So impatient,” Gabriel replied. He had himself propped up with his left arm, but his right hand was resting now on Jack’s pectoral, which he gave a solid squeeze to. “I’m still setting up to ruin you.”

His hand slid down Jack’s body slowly until he reached his wet, ruddy-headed cock. Jack groaned when Gabe’s hand wrapped around him and slid slowly down his length, pausing to rest at the base. The shadow tendril teasingly wrapped around that beautiful cock, the slender tip swaying hypnotically in the air just above the weeping head.

“Jackie,” he said softly, almost a whisper. He licked at Jack’s throat gently, sucking the salt and perspiration off his skin. Jack gave a tattered moan in response. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” came the immediate response.

No hesitation. Gabe felt his heart clench.

“Good. I just want to make you feel amazing. Watch,” the older man replied.

Gabriel sat up a bit more, so he could rest his head on Jack’s shoulder and look down at the younger man’s beautifully erect member. Jack looked down as well, just as the pointed end of the slender tendril teased at the slit of his cock. Slowly the tendril thickened in size, still teasing his slit. It took several seconds for Jack to comprehend what was going on, and by the time the realization hit, the tendril had already slid into his opening.

“Gabe!” Jack cried out, arching his back. He squirmed at the pressure and the sensation of being filled and fucked in a place that normally wasn’t. At the same time, the tentacle in his ass prodded him again. “ _Fuck_!”

 He threw his head back, almost knocking Gabriel in the jaw, his right hand gripping Gabe’s thigh so hard his nails might have been drawing blood. His left hand flew up behind his lover’s head and gripped the older man’s hair almost painfully.

Gabriel didn’t care. In fact, getting his hair pulled in a fit of passion was far more delightful than he expected. Jack’s body was flushed and glistening with perspiration, and he was emitting the most beautiful sounds, and if this was the moment that Gabriel’s cursed existence ended, he’d genuinely die a happy man. His body, his nanites, so wracked with pain a few hours ago, positively hummed to the rhythm of Jack’s impassioned cries.

Jack suddenly let go of his hair and pitched forward, steadying himself by gripping Gabriel’s muscular upper arms. Sensing what he wanted, Gabe leaned back, gasping softly when Jack, the powerful muscles in his legs and thighs tensing and working, started bouncing up and down, fucking himself almost frantically on Gabe’s cock. The tentacle inside him continued to tease him relentlessly, and the tendril sounding him hadn’t let up either. Other tentacles were wrapped around his body, not restricting his movement, but rather, helping to steady him and occasionally tweaking his over-sensitive nipples.

“Gabe! I can’t…! Fuck, I’m going to come soon!”

 _You and me both, Jackie_.

Out loud, the older man groaned. “Come for me, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_. Goddamn, so good, so fucking tight…”

His mind was being splintered by all the sensory readings coming from the nanites, and it was getting too hard to concentrate, especially since he was trying not to come before Jack. He dissipated both of the tendrils penetrating him, his free hand stroking Jack’s cock once, twice, and…

Jack threw his head back as his body went rigid, nails digging painfully into Gabriel’s skin, and he wailed his lover’s name in its proper Spanish pronunciation as he came violently a second time.

The last thing Gabriel expected was to hear his name shouted thus. He hadn’t even known Jack could say it that way, accent in the proper place and everything. He completely lost control then with a hoarse shout, exploding just as violently and pumping through the spasms and clenching of Jack’s body.

When they both stopped shaking, Jack slid off of him onto the bed, his chest heaving, stretching out his doubtlessly sore legs. Gabriel collapsed as well, heart hammering in his chest. He thought he might just melt into a puddle right then and there, because his nanites were _freaking out_ , but in a good way. Of course, they’d never experienced something like this before. Ever since the Reaper hive mind had come online after his death, he’d spent most of that time in various states of anger and pain. This was the first and only pain-free moment he’d had in seven years.

There was a comfortable silence between them, as they both struggled to catch their breath. Jack, once he was coherent again, flipped onto his side and pressed against Gabriel, shivering a little in the cold air, now that his body was cooling off. Some of the nanites shifted to cover him and keep him warm.

“Hey, can you tell me something?” Jack said after a while.

Gabriel sighed. “I don’t care how good this was, Morrison, I’m not telling you anything—”

Jack cut him off. “I’m not asking about the details. Just…tell me the future can be fixed. I mean you have a plan right? You always have a plan. Just please…tell me there’s a future out there where I don’t fail you.”

He might as well have kicked Gabriel in the gut. The older man closed his eyes.

_We failed each other._

Out loud he said, “I have a plan because I believe the future can be fixed.”

_I’m praying it can, anyway._

Jack nodded. “Then I have hope for the future.”

He laid his head on Gabriel’s shoulder and closed his eyes, relaxing again.

_Goddamn, always so bright and hopeful and so trusting of me. I don’t even remember when any of that changed._

**Well, we are definitely not going to eat him,** Reaper assured him then.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and chuckled helplessly.

 

****

 

Sexy Art for this chapter by my wonderful BB artist Isa (@unstablestyle on Tumblr)


	5. Chapter 5

Finding things to burn to survive their final night in the house proved to be more difficult than at first glance. Too much of the wood furniture was cheap particle board, and much of the rest of the wood was treated of course, which could be a bad idea to burn.

In the end Gabriel and the soldier figured the family dining table, which looked quite old, was their best bet. Gabriel felt a touch guilty, since he had no idea if the family that lived here would come back after the omnium was shut down, but they needed some kind of fuel for the fire that night.

So he and Jack, who had found a small hand axe somewhere in the house, took turns whacking the old wood into pieces. It took some time with that tiny axe. Afterwards they carried their precious cargo—which wasn’t nearly enough for the night—into the master bedroom. Then they set about looking for other things to burn.

Which was why, hours later, they were sitting in the study, their backs against a wall and each of them wrapped in a blanket, surrounded by books, which they were tearing pages out of to make paper bundles. They had a decent pile of bundles already, from loose leaf paper they’d found. It was a shame to destroy books, and they tried to pick out volumes that didn’t look terribly old.

“If we shut down the omnium, I’ll see about compensating this family for trashing their house,” Gabriel said idly.

“When,” Jack replied. When the younger man gave him a curious look, the soldier cleared his throat. “When you shut it down.”

“Right,” he replied. He was about to say something else when their super soldier enhanced hearing picked up the first sounds from across the house. They both froze and listened for a moment before Gabriel cleared his throat and went back to tearing pages out of a book. He felt Soldier 76’s stare linger on him.

Gabriel wasn’t upset. It was vaguely disconcerting, he supposed, to know someone else was fucking the man he loved, but _it wasn’t someone else._ So it wasn’t like Jack was cheating on him. Plus he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t felt sympathy earlier that day, when he’d seen his older self in agony. He’d known Jack would be the one to comfort him. He didn’t begrudge his older self that.

“I’m sorry you have to listen to that,” Jack said after a moment.

“Don’t be. It’s not actually bothering me.” He looked up from the paper, just to meet Jack’s searching eyes, knowing he probably didn’t believe him. “Does it bother you?”

The soldier scowled and for a moment it seemed like he was going to respond angrily. But instead, he let out a deep breath and held out his hands in front of him, palms up, looking down at them. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly.

They were silent for a while, Gabriel rolling up bundles and listening to the impossible-to-ignore sounds of lovemaking, and Jack just staring. “How did you fuck up your hands, anyway? You never answered my question,” Gabriel asked after a bit.

Jack made a fist with his left hand. “Trying to unbury you…him from the rubble of a burning building,” he said finally. “You never fucking learn. All those times you yelled at me during the Crisis for running in to save civilians or other soldiers or even just you but you’re no better.” His hand squeezed tighter. “Just like in the mall a few days ago, you… _he_ shoved me out of the way. Stupid.”

Gabriel grunted. “I bet if you ask him even now, he’d say it was worth it. I would say it was worth it, anyway.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, his lips pressed in a thin line, and he opened his hand and went back to rolling up a new bundle. “He’d be wrong. You’d be wrong,” he said flatly.

“You hate yourself that much?”

“It’s not about hate, exactly. I failed a lot of people. Not just Gabriel Reyes, but a _lot_ of people. I don’t expect you to understand the magnitude of that failure yet. You will someday.” He paused for a moment, thinking, fingers absently pressing down on the roll of paper, creasing it to keep it in place. “Or maybe you won’t have to.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything.

After a while, the sounds of lovemaking seemed to be reaching a peak, and Jack made an irritated sound. “For fuck’s sake, did I always yowl like a cat in heat?”

Despite the grim conversation they’d been having, Gabriel chuckled. “You’d have to ask the other me, I think. I wouldn’t know. We’ve always had to keep quiet. Never any real privacy, not at SEP and certainly not during this war.” He paused for a moment, gaze going distant. “I always did wonder what it would sound like if you…he were able to just let go.” His head lulled back against the wall and he let out a deep sigh. “It’s beautiful. I mean, I am feeling a little inadequate right now, but…it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful, you know.”

Jack fumbled the roll. “You’re a sentimental idiot, Gabe,” he grumbled.

“I guess so.”

The old soldier started rolling more paper. “You shouldn’t.” When the younger soldier gave him a questioning look, Jack nodded. “Feel inadequate. There was absolutely nothing wrong with our sex life, even at the end. Sex was never the problem.”

“What was?” he asked, raising his brows.

Jack hesitated, and for a moment Gabriel thought he would refuse to answer, to avoid the whole revealing too much about the future thing. But then the soldier grunted. “The thing that causes the majority of break-ups and divorces: communication. We stopped talking to each other. Maybe we never started.” He got to his feet, dropped the blanket and stretched his muscles. Then he started collecting the rolls in preparation to take them upstairs.

Gabriel followed suit, still mulling things over. “Well, it’s not too late to start, is it?” he asked when they were depositing the rolls near the dark fireplace. “Talking, I mean.”

“Too little, too late,” Jack replied gruffly, not looking at him.

He let out a frustrated huff. “I know I’m a stubborn jackass and I obviously remain that way, but Jesus Christ, Jack, could you at least _try_?”

“Try what?”

“Try to make amends with him. My older self. He’s obviously still in love with you.”

Jack snorted. “Oh, please.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm and with the ease of a powerful super soldier, dragged a protesting Jack to the doorway, where they stopped, just in time to listen to the lovers downstairs both reach their apparently satisfying end. “He still loves you, _pendejo_. And don’t tell me that when you were fucking me, you weren’t thinking about him.”

Jack was so surprised he couldn’t stop the deep flush or the stuttering. “W—what? No!”

“John Patrick Morrison Junior, do not fucking lie to my face,” Gabriel growled, pushing a finger into his chest. “I _told_ you, I can read you like a book.”

“Jesus Christ, I need a drink,” Jack said, turning away from him.

“What a shame that your flask is empty.”

The old soldier cursed, spun on his heel, and stormed out of the room, heading downstairs. Gabriel gave him a few seconds head start before he followed him. When the younger man entered the study, he was surprised to be accosted, a hand grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him until he was chest to chest with Jack, whose blue eyes were hooded and full of pain. Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but Jack suddenly kissed him, fiercely, _passionately_ , and after a second or two of shock, the younger man responded with equal fervor. The kiss was sloppy and wet and desperate.

It ended entirely too soon. Jack stepped back, while he blinked at him somewhat dazedly, his lips tingling.

“You deserve better,” Jack said softly. He started to turn away, but Gabriel grabbed his arm.

“I don’t,” the younger man said fiercely. “We deserve each other. You wouldn’t still love the other me, and he wouldn’t still love you, if we didn’t. You said communication was the root of the problem, but tell me honestly, Jack…why do we end up fighting the way we do? They way you two were fighting when you showed up at the mall, it’s like…like…”

“Like we’re fighting on opposite ends of a war?” Jack supplied quietly.

Gabriel let out a deep breath. “Yes.”

“It’s because we are. So much went wrong. I don’t understand why he made the decisions he did, but I don’t care anymore. I just want—” The older soldier grimaced, stopping himself. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Any of this.” He backed away until he hit a wall, and then slowly slid down until he was sitting, his knees drawn up to this chest. “But, it doesn’t matter. None of that shit is going to happen.” The older man sounded so certain all of a sudden. Grim and determined.

Gabriel quietly went and sat next to him, placing a hand on the soldier’s knee. “You believe the other me now? That the future can be changed?”

Jack gave a mirthless chuckle, a sound which didn’t comfort Gabriel in the least, although he did place a hand on the younger man’s hand, gently. “I believe it,” he said, nodding. He sounded sincere. “And I’ll do my part to make sure of it. Because you deserve better, Gabriel. I truly believe that.”

 

Later, Gabriel sat in the study wrapped in a blanket with a rather large book spread open in his lap, one of the few books they hadn’t destroyed, because it looked pretty old and valuable. It was a book on World War 2, and he was absently flipping through the pages of old photographs.

He glanced at the still form curled up against him. He wasn’t sure if Jack was asleep, but he was leaning against him, head resting on the younger man’s shoulder, body relaxed. Gabriel’s other arm was wrapped around him, his hand caressing his white hair.

And that was how his Jack found them. Gabriel heard his steps approaching and he looked up as the blonde paused in the doorway, looking a bit hesitant. But when Gabriel smiled at him, Jack smiled back and came closer. The old soldier didn’t stir.

“Hi, Jack,” he said quietly.

“Hey.” The blonde paused and he looked sheepish and embarrassed. “I…uh…I’m sorry about…earlier. I didn’t even think…I should have kept quiet.”

But even before he stuttered through his apology, Gabriel was shaking his head. “No,” he said. When those baby-blue eyes blinked at him in surprise, the darker man smiled again. “I liked hearing you enjoy yourself. I liked hearing you taken care of. Even if it wasn’t me. Well, it was me. But not _me._ ”

Jack stared at him, as if trying to read more into his words. But after a moment he just blushed and smiled.

“Well, I would have preferred to have a sock stuffed in your mouth to shut you up,” the older Jack said, sitting up.

“Kinky,” Gabriel said immediately, and smirked when the old soldier just shot him a look.

Grumbling, white-haired Jack stood up, stretching and wincing at the audible creaks and cracks.

“Well, Gabe—the other Gabe—wants us in the kitchen for a meeting,” young Jack said.

“Great, I’ll go entertain myself elsewhere,” old Jack said as he headed for the door.

“ _All_ of us,” his younger self said. “All four of us.”

The white-haired soldier glanced back at him in surprise before pausing in the doorway to think about it. For a moment Gabriel thought he might refuse. But then he grunted and made a motion with his hands that might have indicated agreement, before he walked out.

Young Jack gave a shrug and started for the door. But he had taken no more than a few steps before Gabriel grabbed his arm and yanked him back, pulling him immediately into a hug. Jack was surprised, but then he melted against him, returning the sweet kiss dropped on his lips.

“So we’re okay?” Jack asked when they separated.

“Of course we are.” He paused, giving him an appraising look. “Did you not think we would be? I kind of did send you to seduce my older self, didn’t I?”

“Yes but—”

“No buts,” Gabriel interrupted. He dropped a hand to Jack’s tight ass and gave a gentle squeeze, causing Jack to give a bit of undignified giggle. “Did you learn anything, at least?”

“Mmm, your older self is just as pig-headed as you are. He doesn’t want to share too much information about the future. But he definitely has a plan that he is certain about.”

“Of course he has a plan. Don’t I always have a plan?” Gabriel grumbled.

He was pressing his face against Jack’s neck by then, nuzzling him gently and dropping teasing little kisses along his throat. He was pleased when he felt the goosebumps on Jack’s skin and the little shiver his boyfriend gave against him when his beard rubbed against tender skin. There was an odd scent around Jack, one that reminded him of something smoky and almost metallic. That must have been the lingering scent of the other Gabriel on him, because normally he associated Jack’s scent with wintergreen and warmth on a cold winter day. He resisted the sudden primal urge to bite Jack’s neck, to mark him as his own, especially when a thought occurred to him and he pulled back to check on the other side of Jack’s neck. There was indeed a bruise, a mark left behind by Jack’s other lover. He’d known it would be there, because he was very fond of marking Jack like that just about every time they made love.

To be fair, he supposed old Jack had also marked Gabriel yesterday, in more than one place even, although thanks to super soldier healing, those marks were mostly gone already. Unfortunately.

Jack was blushing in response to his inspection of the hickie on his neck. Gabriel stood back, wrinkling his nose a little. “Didn’t you shower afterwards?”

“What, in that ice cold water again? Fuck that. I used a soaked washcloth to clean up. Don’t judge,” Jack huffed.

He chuckled. “That’s fair. So…do you trust him and his plan?”

“Yes,” Jack said without hesitation. “He believes he can change the future successfully.”

“And you trust him?”

“As much as I trust you. It _is_ you, Gabe. Older, angrier, maybe, but…it’s definitely you.”

“Alright.” Gabriel let him go. “Let’s go see what he wants.”

“Hey, just so you know,” Jack said casually, “you can’t cut your hair. Ever.”

Gabriel stopped and stared at him. “What the fuck are you on about?” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait, he has long hair? Fuck that, Morrison, I don’t need that shit in my face when I’m fighting.”

Jack made a dismissive motion. He hadn’t stopped moving, was already in the hallway. “Reinhardt fights with long hair.”

“Reinhardt wears a helmet!”

“Your beanie will keep it out of your face. And you can tie it back when we’re fighting. Look, it’s just too sexy and I want to have something to pull on when we’re fucking.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but he didn’t have a counterpoint to that. And also, maybe the sudden thought Jack had put in his head was just too distracting. Nevermind the fact that his cock twitched in interest at the prospect.

“We’ll discuss this later.” He said it in a low growling timbre that was passably close to the way his older self sounded.

Jack turned to stare at him, blue eyes wide. “You…you need to use that voice more often,” he muttered.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and walked past him into the kitchen.

 

Reaper was standing with his back to the kitchen sink when they came in. The simple black hoodie he’d been using since yesterday was gone, replaced by his black leather duster once more. Still, he hadn’t bothered with the rest of his belts, or the mask, or clawed gloves. The hood of his coat wasn’t up, either, so Gabriel could now see his older self’s long hair, and he gave his boyfriend a wry look, causing Jack to grin a little sheepishly at him. _Okay, so it does look good. But still…what a pain._

“Where’s 76?” Reaper asked.

“Dunno. He walked out when Jack said there was a meeting being convened,” Gabriel replied. He sat down at the small roundtable and spread his legs out, crossing his arms on his chest, and only noticed afterwards that he was mimicking Reaper’s stance. The older man did have his arms crossed on his chest, but his stance was otherwise relaxed, and his eyes—which had been intensely crimson that morning, when Gabriel had seen him in pain—actually looked almost normal. Much closer to Gabriel’s own chestnut brown than red.

Gabriel’s lips twitched a little at the thought that fucking Jack Morrison could turn a monster into a docile man.

Jack was just dropping down beside him when Soldier 76 entered the kitchen. He stopped quite suddenly when he noticed Reaper, and for a moment both of the older soldiers stared at each other. Old Jack was wearing the top half of his visor, so his expression was hard to gauge, but judging from his body language he was surprised.

“What’s the matter, Jack?” Reaper said softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Never seen you without the mask. Wasn’t what I was expecting, after Ana…” Jack started, but stopped quite suddenly.

Old Gabe grunted. “Luckily for you, I’ve fed recently enough. She got an accidental look at my supermodel looks when I was decidedly less human.” He gestured toward the table. “Shall we?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to try to kill me?” Soldier 76 asked almost casually. But he moved toward the table nonetheless.

“Not immediately, no,” Reaper replied just as casually. “Are you going to try to kill _me_?”

“I mean, not right _now_.”

For just a moment Gabriel could swear they almost smiled at each other, but then old Jack huffed a little and sat down beside him. That was when Reaper finally joined them, sitting on Young Jack’s other side. For a moment, the four of them just kind of stared at each other.

“Alright, so what’s the plan, Old Me?” Gabriel finally said, his impatience winning out.

“The ‘plan,’ for the moment, is simple,” his older self said. “You’re going to finish the war like you are meant to. While you are doing that, I will be gathering resources. I don’t have access to the network that I do back in my time, so I have to start from scratch. But by the time you’re done with the war, I should be in a better place to commence operations.”

“Okay, but what about the war?” Young Jack asked, raising his brows slightly.

“What about it?” Reaper replied, shrugging. “I’m not going to tell you how to end it. You can figure that out. Gabriel already knows how to defeat the omnium tomorrow.”

When the others looked at him, Gabriel nodded once. Of course he’d already figured out the plan for hitting the omnium. He’d been thinking about it constantly in the back of his head since the mall. He’d been thinking about it _at_ the mall. And the chess games he’d played with Jack while holed up in this house had served as mental practice runs for various scenarios. Based on the intel he and Jack had observed before the mall disaster, he already knew the best way to get his team inside, and the best way to strike, fast and silent.

It honestly had never occurred to him to even ask his older self if his plan for the omnium was sound. He’d done what he always did before today: he absorbed the intel, drew up a plan, and executed it, adjusting as necessary along the way.

It was how it had been for the past nine years of this war.

“I will say this,” his older self said, narrowing his eyes at him across the table. “Don’t get cocky. Just because I am here doesn’t mean you can’t fuck up. You’re to operate like anyone, including yourself, can die at any time. Because you can.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Yes, dad.” That thought had also never occurred to him: to assume that his older self’s presence meant he and his team were safe no matter what. He was too accustomed to being responsible for the lives of his team to get complacent, despite the circumstance. Losing soldiers in the US back in the early years of the war, and losing Liao only six months ago, had been painful enough. The lives of his people were far too precious for him to mess around.

Especially Jack’s life.

Old Gabe was looking at him closely, but a moment later he finally sat back, apparently satisfied with what he saw. “There is something I need you to do in…where you go after Romania,” he said.

Gabriel raised his brows, silently asking for more information. But his older self just shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. I’ll communicate with you when it’s appropriate. That’s true of every step of this plan. I won’t tell you any details until you absolutely need to know.”

“So you’re going to give us assassination targets at your leisure,” young Jack said with a frown.

“What? No.” Reaper closed his eyes. “The murder list isn’t for you. It’s for me. I can’t have you dropping bodies.” He opened his eyes once more and they seemed to glow with an inner light. “You’re supposed to be heroic and shit. Focus on your lives. I will be taking care of the people that need to be dealt with. When it’s time.”

“When it’s time?” Soldier 76 echoed, pale brows rising above his visor. “You’re still going to be dropping bodies around them. Someone is bound to get suspicious.”

“Morrison, please,” Reaper replied, scowling. “Give me some goddamn credit. I have no intention of letting them be implicated. I will also not be going on some fucking murder spree out of the blue. That will draw too much attention. People are going to die,  but they will die when it’s the right time and not before. I need certain people to be positioned in the right place at the right time, because if they die at the wrong time, it will be meaningless and it might change the script I’m familiar with. I’m playing the long game.”

“So this thing you want me to do after Romania…?” Gabriel started.

“Has nothing to do with killing anyone. In fact, I want you to save some lives.”

Gabriel’s mouth formed an “O” but he didn’t actually say anything. He sat back in his seat, contemplating that. “Okay, sure,” he said finally. “I can play hero, I guess.”

Reaper’s dark eyes swept over him sharply. “I know it’s strange, but someday soon the world will call all of you heroes, so you might as well get used to it. There are going to be a lot of cameras and reporters in your face after the war ends.”

“Great,” Gabriel grumbled. He hated the thought of reporters and cameras. He could command legions and fight killer robots all day long, but damned if reporters thrusting microphones in his face didn’t make him anxious as all hell. “Can’t I just fucking disappear after the war?”

“No,” both of the older men said sharply. They glanced at each other in surprise, and again, that almost smile happened. But then they turned away from each other.

Reaper crossed his arms on his chest. “No, you’re not that lucky, sorry, Gabriel. Spoiler alert: they don’t let you retire to some secluded tropical island with a bunch of hot naked men.”

“Dammit, why not?” Gabriel lamented with a heavy, dramatic sigh.

Young Jack looked vaguely scandalized.

“In fact, I’m more interested in talking about what comes after the war, and a decision you both have to make,” Reaper continued. He paused when Soldier 76 made a noise. “What, Jack?”

For a moment the old soldier said nothing, but Reaper watched him calmly, and finally Soldier 76 shifted a bit uncomfortably. “I think we both know the solution to _that_ problem. It’s pretty easy, just make you—I mean, Gabriel—”

“No,” Reaper interrupted. He rolled his eyes. “I watched you make some of the toughest decisions for decades when it came to other people’s lives, but somehow when it comes to yourself, you always go for the dumbest, most self-deprecating call. This is why I yelled at you every time you disregarded your own fucking safety to run into an impossible battle like an idiot. Like somehow your life, or your experiences, or your leadership skills, were worthless. Always a goddamn martyr. _Pendejo,_ the solution to the shitstorm that Overwatch becomes is not to make Gabriel Strike Commander. That doesn’t magically fix anything.”

Old Jack’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t know that. Besides, you’re only saying that because it’s easier for you…him.”

For the first time since this strange discussion had started, Reaper looked something other than serene. Annoyance crossed his features and his eyes glowed slightly redder. “Did you just fucking accuse me of taking the easy way for myself? Seriously, Jack?”

The soldier opened his mouth; then closed it without saying a word.

“That’s what I fucking thought!” the older Gabriel growled. “You have some nerve even suggesting that shit, Morrison. I told you back then, and I’m telling you now, that you were always better suited to that shitty job, and I was better suited to my shitty job. You were _good_ at that job, even if you don’t fucking think so.”

“What’s a Strike Commander?” young Jack butted in, before they could start arguing in earnest.

“And uh, what’s Overwatch, in your context? Because to me, Overwatch is just the top secret project name for the strike team initiative,” Gabriel added. “My understanding from Adawe was that the team was to be disbanded after the war—assuming we were successful.”

“It was,” Reaper replied. “But the UN decides after the war to turn Overwatch into a humanitarian and post-war recovery organization. Or well, that’s what it was on paper. It becomes a lot more than that. The Strike Commander is Overwatch’s leader.”

There was a momentary silence, but then young Jack pointed to himself. “Me? Are you crazy? That’s Gabriel’s position.”

For half a second, Gabriel felt a pang of annoyance, coupled with shock, at the knowledge that Jack would get promoted over him after the war. But he barely had time to analyze that when he was already processing the argument their older selves had just had. No, Jack wouldn’t just accept a promotion that should be his…he and Jack decide together to have it that way.

Gabriel closed his eyes, already analyzing the implications of what Overwatch was to become, the massive job that the UN would be dropping on them. Post-war recovery in the smoking entrails of broken cities and hundreds of thousands of dead? Entire city infrastructures just gone, food shortages, massive environmental impact, thousands of war orphans, and an economic recovery that was going to take a long time, especially in third world countries? Good fucking god, _how_ could any one organization handle it all, and any one man command it all?

The thought of it was overwhelming, in a way that defeating omniums and God A.I.s simply weren’t for him. Shutting down the omnium tomorrow? Easy. At least compared to this looming mess. Instantly he can see why Soldier 76 was so worn out. The world _had_ chewed him up and spit him out, for its own ends. And that was why he’d said Gabriel had taken the easy job.

The easy job?

Gabriel opened his eyes, only to find that his older self is looking at him calmly, knowingly, like he knew exactly where Gabriel’s thoughts were. He probably did. The younger man locked gazes with him. “Strike Commander. Makes all the decisions, approves missions, approves personnel changes, handles the budget, shoulders the weight of post-war recovery, right? But you mentioned cameras, so I assume there’s a public aspect as well.”

“The UN felt the world needed a symbol of hope, someone to look up to, to be held up as an ideal, as well as act as an ambassador of peace between world leaders,” Soldier 76 said. There was a hint of something in his voice, something dark, perhaps a tinge of resentment.

“So not only does the Strike Commander bear the weight of the world, but also has to look and act perfect, be the hero everyone needs, _and_ kiss the ass of every self-important head of state,” Gabriel concluded.

Barely had the two older soldiers nodded before Jack, his blue eyes huge and round, leaped to his feet and backpedaled away from the table, a sheer look of panic on his face. “Oh, no. No no no no. This is _not_ happening. I can’t possibly—you can’t expect me— _no_ —!”

Gabriel was suddenly at his side, even as Jack started hyperventilating. “Jackie, calm down. Hey, look at me. Breathe, sunshine. Look at me!” He didn’t touch the blonde yet, just held his hands out, palms up, keeping his tone calm. “Jack, it’s ok—”

“This is _not_ okay!” Jack interrupted, still breathing far too rapidly. “That is your job, you’ve lead us through this war, and I can’t possibly do all of that…”

“Jack, we haven’t made any decisions yet,” he replied, still perfectly calm. “Hey, don’t look away. Keep looking at me, and breathe. Breathe with me, okay?” He took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. And then did it again. And again, until Jack mimicked him. Slowly the blonde began to calm down.

It wasn’t until his breathing had normalized that Jack threw his arms around Gabriel, pressing against his chest. Gabriel could hear his heart beating rapidly still, but at least he wasn’t going to pass out. “Gabe, I can’t do this—”

“Jack, you don’t give yourself enough credit,” he murmured in reply, wrapping his arms carefully around the younger man. “People respond to you, to your smile, to your good looks, to your cheer. You have this sunny optimism, because when you believe in something, you believe in something so wholeheartedly that your entire being shines with it. You have this way of rallying people’s spirits, even when things look bleak. I’ve seen you do it during this war. I saw you do it at SEP. People look at you, and they believe.”

Jack sank into his embrace, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. “I…it’s too much, Gabriel. Too much for one man.”

“It _is_ too much,” the older Gabriel agreed from the table. “At the end, it proved to be too much. Jack led Overwatch successfully for…decades, but it was still too much. That’s why I’m warning you now, so you have time think about it. I have no idea what the right answer is, other than I don’t think the answer is to dump the Strike Commander title on anyone else. It will chew up anyone sitting in that chair. You have one chance to structure Overwatch differently from the beginning, because Adawe will listen to you and fight for you if you do it in that moment. If you let the idiots at the UN structure Overwatch for you, it’s impossible to change it later. Plus, some people in the UN don’t have…everyone’s best interests at heart. ” Something like anger flashed across his face.

“Okay. But if Jack became the public face of Overwatch, what role did you take?” Gabriel asked.

“Officially? Commander of Overwatch’s Special Forces,” Reaper replied. “I disappeared from public view. No one besides Jack and a handful of others even knew what I did on a day to day basis, but it didn’t matter, because no one asked.”

“And unofficially?” Jack asked softly from beside Gabriel.

“Blackwatch,” Gabriel supplied himself all of a sudden, remembering the vicious argument in the kitchen only yesterday between the older soldiers. A great deal of connections snapped into place in his head. “Black…ops?”

Young Jack frowned. “Wait…Overwatch has a standing army? _And_ a shadow operation underneath it? Isn’t this a peacekeeping and post-war recovery organization?” He did not sound pleased.

“Do you have any idea how many greedy and dangerous assholes out there will take advantage of the broken state of the world to line their own pockets and hurt people?” Soldier 76 shot back defensively. His arms were across his chest now, and what they could see of his face was flushed in anger. “Of course we had armed agents. And of course we had an unofficial black ops force. We weren’t fighting robots anymore. These were people, throngs of bad people who resorted to violence and crime to get their way. And fighting by the rules didn’t always work. Overwatch had armed agents, but never enough to deal with everything the UN expected us to deal with. Blackwatch had the ability to infiltrate these organizations, to quietly uncover their secrets, and bring them down with only a handful of specialized agents. And Gabe was really, really good at recruiting, training, and commanding them.”

Gabriel could definitely see the benefit of being able to take care of business from the shadows, unofficially and off the books. He was already mulling over what that kind of organization would look like.

The older Gabriel, meanwhile, was staring blankly at Soldier 76. He was clearly stunned that his Jack appeared to be defending him.

“But then something happened. Things started to go wrong. Missions failing, agents going down—” Soldier 76 continued.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I know why things went wrong at the end,” Reaper interrupted. “I’m more interested in making sure things go right at the beginning.” He hesitated. “I…think maybe it was a mistake for me to disappear from the public view from the start. I hate cameras and I hate the idea of being a public figure, but maybe if more of us at the top had been visible, maybe Jack wouldn’t have had to shoulder all of it.” He shook himself a little, as if that cleared his head. “Anyway, when Adawe dropped this on us, we didn’t have much time to work this out in our heads. I’m telling you now so that you have time to think it over and make better decisions than we did. I can’t and won’t hold your hand through the next year or so of your lives. I have other things I need to do, places I absolutely have to be to make sure things go right.”

 _Also I trust you._ He didn’t say it out loud, but Gabriel understood nonetheless.

“And while we will be in touch with you, we won’t be seeing each other for a while, if at all. We’ll be around though,” Reaper continued.

“We?” Soldier 76 said, his brows rising once more.

Reaper frowned at him. “Well, I _could_ use your help, Jack. I mean, we both have a vested interest in making sure this doesn’t turn into a shitshow, yeah?”

The soldier said nothing. He was sitting very still, his arms crossed on his chest, the only movement a single digit on his right hand tapping lightly on his left arm, following some kind of beat that only he knew.

The older Gabriel’s face twisted in a scowl, but he didn’t press Jack any further. Instead, he turned back to the younger soldiers, who were still standing together against the far counter. “Just don’t forget what I said, Gabriel. Tomorrow, and for the rest of this war…”

“Don’t get cocky,” Gabriel interrupted. “I won’t. I lost Liao. I don’t intend to lose anyone else.”

His older self blinked at him, silent for several minutes longer. But then he nodded once. Whatever he saw in Gabriel’s eyes, he was satisfied. He stood up. “I suggest you try to get some decent sleep. It will be hard to come by for the rest of the war.”

 _Yeah. Sure,_ Gabriel thought to himself. _Sleep. Right._ The thought of being able to rest was preposterous to him. His thoughts were running a mile a minute as he contemplated not only this news about Overwatch, but he was still going over his plans for the omnium tomorrow, as well as mulling over everything else he’d learned over the past few days.

Sleep was going to be impossible to find that night, he thought. And he knew his partner well enough to know that although the blonde had gone very quiet since his panic earlier, Jack was not okay, and sleep was not going to come any easier to him either.

There was simply too much to think about.

 

Well, he was slightly wrong. Gabriel and Jack didn’t sleep _much,_ but they did manage a scant few hours, which for super soldiers, was enough to keep them going. But they had spent hours, late into the night, huddling in their blankets in the study, bent over the chessboard because Gabriel insisted it helped him think. Jack lost every game, but he didn’t care, because he spent the time talking. About mundane things mostly but also about the anxiety that wouldn’t go away, the heavy feeling of dread that came with knowing that he was expected to perform an impossible job and that obviously he fucked it up somehow in the future because there had been an explosion that would kill Gabriel and probably others.

They talked and talked, Gabriel consciously aware of Soldier 76 telling him that communication had been _their_ problem. He was determined that the same would not be true this time. They talked, and it helped Jack, and even though the anxiety and dread wasn’t going away anytime soon, he was at least calm and collected. He’d be able to focus on the mission tomorrow. And more to the point, he trusted both Gabriels’ assurances that the future wasn’t written in stone.

The soldier had quietly joined them in the bedroom when Gabriel fetched him, but he refused the offer to join them on the bed for warmth, choosing instead to sit by the fireplace and feed it throughout the night. As far as Gabriel knew, Reaper didn’t join him.

In the morning it was the absence of sound that woke him. The noise of the battering storm that had been their constant companion for three days was gone and the house was quiet.

Gabriel didn’t like it.

Neither of their older selves were in the room when they rolled out of bed, and the fire was dead. The soldiers hurried to get dressed, this time setting aside their borrowed clothing from the house and putting on their actual gear: bottom layers, uniform, armor, warm packs in their combat boots, holsters and weapons. Jack checked to make sure his medical kit was still mostly stocked and he took a few first aid things from the bathroom for added supplies. While he was busy with that, Gabriel checked the inside pocket of his jacket, and with a smile found that not only was his phone back in its place there, but it had been fully charged. He found his comm piece in the outer pocket and slipped it into his ear. “Alpha team, do you read?”

There was only a momentary pause. “ _Amari here. It’s good to hear you loud and clear, Gabi. That old radio you were using was difficult to understand._ ”

Gabriel couldn’t help the grin at the nickname. Only the women of his family called him that, but it was still appropriate. Ana _was_ his sister, and he realized with a pang how much he’d missed having her around the past few days. Jack was his partner in more ways than one, but Ana was the person he talked to about everything, the person he went to for sage advice. His _hermana_ because he didn’t have access to his actual sisters.

His smile fled as he suddenly realized that for the first time since they’d become friends and companions five years ago, he was going to have to keep a major secret from her. He didn’t like that. “Are you complaining, Ana?” he said out loud. “I mean, if not for that old dinosaur, you wouldn’t have known Jack and I were alive.”

The Egyptian woman snorted. “ _Gabriel, please. Do you not think I would have walked through that storm to find you_?”

He knew she would have. He was relieved she hadn’t. “I know, I know. And it would have been stupid of you to do so.”

“ _Pfft. No one left behind, isn’t that what you always say_?” she fired back.

Gabriel chuckled despite himself. “Touché. Is the team ready to go? We’re about to head out here, and we have some work to do today.”

“ _Everyone is up and we’re getting ready to head out. It might take us a while to get to the rendezvous point. The snow is piled high out there and we have further to walk than you do._ ” 

“That’s fine, we should probably eat something. Contact me when you’re getting close,” Gabriel replied.

“ _Acknowledged. See you soon._ ”

He tapped the device again to deactivate it and turned around with his jacket draped over his arm, just as Jack came out of the bathroom, backpack on his shoulders and already wearing the headpiece that served as both his comm device over one ear, as well as the blue visor over his eyes that fed him information in battle. The visor wasn’t on currently, which meant his eyes were visible through the glass.

“The team is heading out, but it will take them a while to reach the mall. We should probably eat something before we head out ourselves,” Gabriel said.

Jack nodded. He collected his parka and they headed downstairs.

 

Reaper was in the kitchen, brewing the last of their terrible coffee in the garish lights of a couple of lanterns and daylight through the window. Much to their surprise, his clothing was different. He still had on a long hooded leather coat and the Kevlar body armor and multiple belts, but everything was pure snow-white, except for a few metallic accents on his boots and elsewhere, and the steel-tipped claws on his gloves, and his mask was metallic looking as well. Even the shotguns (and their holster) were white.

“What the fuck?” Gabriel burst out. “Where did that come from?”

His older self wasn’t wearing his mask (it was on the kitchen table), so when he turned to look at Gabriel, there was momentary confusion on his face. But then he looked down at himself. “Oh. The nanites can absorb objects, like clothing, and store them in their memories. I can reform those objects when I want. This is just one of my many sets of clothing and combat gear. I’d rather not stand out like a sore thumb out there, since now that the storm is over there will be people and omnics moving around. I can blend easier in the winter this way.”

“That’s…kind of awesome,” Jack said. “Also…you look really really good in white…”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. He was already pouring coffee into their mugs, and there was just enough to get four cups. He brought two to the table and pushed them to the far side, before he went back for the others. Jack had fetched a couple of cans of food and the can opener. When he set these down, the blonde found a cup of coffee being shoved into his hands.

“Take your coffee and stop ogling the man,” Gabe said.

Reaper gave a low chuckle.

Jack scowled. “It’s not my fault I find your older self hot, okay?”

Gabriel let out an audible sigh, but he wasn’t actually upset. Privately, he did think Reaper looked good in white, and yes he could also admit that he looked good with long hair as well, although that was currently hidden by the cowl of his coat.

“Kind of a shame,” Reaper said casually, holding one of the extra cups of coffee.

“What is?” Jack asked, taking a sip.

“That the storm didn’t last an extra day. I’m sure you would have enjoyed getting fucked by two Gabriels.”

Jack choked on his coffee, even as he instantly turned a bright shade of red, right to the tips of his ears.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think it, _amorcito_ ,” Gabriel said just as casually as his older self.

Jack’s face was burning, and by now the blush had spread to his neck. “Fuck both of you,” he growled.

“That's the idea,” both Gabriels said at the same time, before they glanced at each other and grinned.

The blonde gave a huff and sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m not sure I can put up with two of you insufferable assholes in bed,” he grumbled. He was busy opening the cans.

“Where’s Jack?” Gabriel asked after watching him for a moment.

Reaper shrugged. “Haven’t seen him today. Heard him in the study earlier, though. He was pacing around in there for a while.”

Gabriel gave him a concerned look. A sliver of apprehension went down his spine. That couldn’t be a good thing. Jack pacing was never a good thing. It meant he was too deep in his head.

He set his mug down. “Maybe I should go get him, make sure he gets some coffee and food in him.”

Reaper held up a clawed hand. “Wait. There’s something I need to do before you leave to join your team.” He beckoned his younger self closer.

Curiously, Gabriel stepped over to him. For a moment, they stared at each other, before Reaper leaned toward him. For a second, Gabriel thought his older self was going to kiss him, which was a little strange, but maybe it had something to do with teasing Jack, even if it did strike him as particularly narcissist. He didn’t back off, and Reaper did come within a few inches of him and paused. They stared at one another once again in silence, and Gabriel had the sense his level of trust was being evaluated.

Finally, his older self opened his mouth and exhaled a black cloud. Now Gabriel recoiled, surprised, but a clawed hand was holding onto his arm. He held his breath, but when the claws dug into his skin unexpectedly he reflexively took a breath. It wasn’t oxygen that entered his breathing passages, but the cloud of nanites and for a moment he couldn’t breathe at all as he tried to gasp in air. Again he tried to back away but Reaper hung onto him, his claws terribly close to piercing his skin even through the layers of clothing and armor.

Really the entire moment lasted all of five seconds at most, and yet Gabriel felt like an eternity passed before he could take an actual breath. He coughed violently but none of the nanites came back out, and for a moment he felt light-headed and strange.

“What the _fuck_ , man!” Gabriel shouted as soon as he was able to speak. He coughed rather violently again.

“What did you do?” Jack asked softly. At some point he’d abandoned the table to stand at Gabriel’s side, and only when the blonde grabbed his other arm did Reaper’s claws peel away. When the other Gabriel’s strong grip was no longer steadying him, a dizzy spell caused Gabriel to waver, and Jack wrapped an arm around his waist, grounding him as well as providing stability.

“Reaper, what the fuck have you done?” This was growled from the entryway, where Soldier 76 stood, fully outfitted in his garish leather jacket, and his huge pulse rifle was magnetically attached to his back, the stock sticking up behind his head for easy access. He even had his full visor on, the red glare across the glass seeming particularly ominous.

“No need to get protective, Jack,” Reaper replied. “All I did was give Gabriel some of my nanites. It will let me keep tabs on you. And if you’re seriously injured, I’ll know.”

The dizzy spell had passed, and now that he could stand on his own, Gabriel gently pushed Jack away, and turned to give his older self the infamous Reyes death stare: narrowed eyes, dark look, scowl. “Keep tabs on me? You asshole, you could have just sent a goddamn text message. Do these little bastards let you hear my conversations? You going to get a show when I’m with Jack?”

“No, _idiota_ ,” Reaper snapped back. “They aren’t cameras. Calm the fuck down. Mostly their only purpose is to let me know if you’ve been seriously injured. And by the way, they could potentially save your life. I gave you enough that they should interact with the SEP nanites and double your healing factor. Also, if you disappear, they will serve as a homing beacon for me. You’re going to have a lot of enemies in the future, and I was captured once or twice during my time as Blackwatch Commander and tortured for information. I never cracked but it sucked. You’re a high value target after the war.”

Gabriel opened his mouth, but then he closed it, his protests dying. Finally, he huffed. “You could have warned me first,” he grumbled, before sitting at the table once more. He was suddenly starving and started wolfing down one of the canned meals. Jack sat down next to him and also ate, albeit much slower.

“Don’t the nanites die out of your body?” Soldier 76 asked after a moment of thinking. “Like the ones you used to heal me a few days?” He had claimed the last cup of coffee finally, slipping the bottom of his faceplate off to gulp it down.

“Most of them are dead, yes,” Reaper replied. “They do die outside of my body, which is why I’m not giving any to Jack. But they aren’t exactly out of my body when they are in Gabriel, are they?”

“Wait, how will they feed to get energy?” Young Jack asked with a frown.

“They’ll feed off Gabriel.” When everyone gave him an alarmed look, the older Gabe held up a hand. “There aren’t enough of them to hurt you. You’re just going to have to eat more, that’s all.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Gabriel grumbled. “You should have asked before doing this. Jerk.” A thought seemed to occur to him then. “So wait, can I use the ones in me like a homing beacon to find you?”

His older self shook his head. “You don’t have the full hive mind accessible to you that way. They won’t be able to communicate with you. This should work anyway though; the nanites should survive in you. Reaper and I had a chat last night.”

Soldier 76 gave him a look. “Did you just refer to yourself in the third person? Or do you have a split personality thing going on?”

“No, Jack, I was referring to Reaper. The nanites,” the older Gabriel replied calmly.

“Do you know nothing about his condition?”young Jack suddenly snapped at his older self, sounding angry about it.

Soldier 76 frowned. He downed the last of his coffee and set the mug on the table. “We haven’t exactly chit-chatted since the explosion. You know, since the few times we have crossed paths, we ended up fighting.”

“Yeah, we got that memo,” Gabriel said. “You did say that communication was a problem for you. Yet you spent three days trapped in this house and neither of you took the opportunity to actually talk to each other, just us. Well unless you count that near-fight where a weapon was drawn, I guess.”

Soldier 76 didn’t react to the accusing tone, even as he snapped his faceplate back into place. Reaper’s expression remained passive and virtually unreadable, as he too grabbed his metallic mask from the table and slotted it in place.

“It’s not that easy. There are decades of history and a lot of anger between us,” the older Gabriel finally said. The mask distorted his voice, made it gruffer and more metallic, almost unrecognizable as Gabriel. “But that doesn’t mean you and your Jack can’t have it less complicated. It can be easier for you.”

Jack hopped to his feet, taking his and Gabriel’s empty mugs and used utensils to the sink. Soldier 76 picked up his empty mug and moved to the sink as well.

The hair on the back of Gabriel’s neck stood up. A cold shard of ice went down his spine, a decade of finely-honed instincts for danger suddenly flaring to life. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Reaper looked at him curiously, perhaps noticing the change in body language. But Gabriel himself was focused on the two Jacks. Young Jack was just turning away from the sink.

“It can be easier, but not with this elaborate plan of yours, Reaper. Do you realize how much could go wrong, how easily they could repeat our history?” Soldier 76 said quietly. His voice, too, was distorted by his mask, deep and gravelly. “Always have to play 11th dimensional chess, Gabe. Always have to be the smartest person in the goddamn room.”

“I usually am,” the older Gabriel replied quietly. Not arrogantly; just a statement of fact. He was watching the soldier now. “Jack, what are you doing?”

Barely had the question left his lips when everything happened so quickly.

Gabriel jumped to his feet, just as Soldier 76 slipped the pistol from its side holster.

“I am making this easy,” the soldier said quietly, pointing the pistol at his younger self’s head.

The blonde, for his part, stood frozen. There was no surprise on his face, however; just a passive, accepting stare.

 “No!” Gabriel shouted, taking two steps toward his Jack. He didn’t make it any further before a hand was on his chest and he was pushed back, slamming against the counter behind him. “Let me go!”

“I am not going to risk you getting shot by a stray bullet,” his older self growled.

Gabriel, in sheer panic and struggling still against the hold on him, struck out with his boot in a blow that probably would have snapped a normal person’s leg. But Reaper was also a super soldier. The blow only made Reaper shift to adjust his balance, which was the moment when Gabriel took advantage, hitting the arm holding him back to break the lock even as he hunched and threw all of his body weight against Reaper’s chest. The older man snarled a curse but they went tumbling to the floor nonetheless, knocking over one of the chairs and shattering it with their combined weight and force. They ended up right in the middle of the standoff between the two Jacks. Soldier 76 hesitated.

“Don’t shoot, Jack, you might hit Gabriel!” young Jack said, snapping out of his stupor. “I’m not begging for my life. If you think this is the right call, fine. Shoot me. I won’t struggle. I am clearly capable of failing to protect the one person I swore to myself I would _never_ fail. But don’t take the shot yet, not when there’s a risk you could kill him.”

“Jack, shut the fuck up!” Gabriel shouted. In his physical struggle with his older self, he’d ended up face down on the cheap linoleum floor, with Reaper pressing a knee to his spine to keep him down. “Reaper! Gabriel, _please…_ don’t let this happen.” His voice cracked on the plea. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t let him do this to me…to _us._ ”

There was a momentary silence where no one moved. Then, slowly, Reaper let out a deep breath. “Jack, put the gun down. We can talk through this. I’ll go over the plan with you in detail, and I will show you that it can work. I _know_ it can work.”

“You don’t know shit, Reaper,” Soldier 76 responded curtly. “We’ve never time traveled before. You have no idea if this will work. But I do know this…Jack Morrison fucks everything up. You said it yourself in Cairo: I left you to die. So the easiest way to ensure that things don’t happen the same way is to remove me from the equation entirely. So I suggest you grab Gabriel and get out of here. Right now.”

“Always a _fucking_ martyr, Morrison!” Reaper growled angrily. “Like everything that went wrong for us was _your_ fault? Like the whole fucking world revolved around your goddamn statue? Well I have news for you, asshole. It doesn’t!”

 _Okay, not the most inspirational pep talk,_ Gabriel thought to himself. _Gotta work on that. I can do better._

“You and that goddamn statue,” Soldier 76 retorted. “I never wanted the damn thing. I hated it! It didn’t even look like me! Yet you never let me forget it existed! It was blown up seven years ago along with our whole lives, and yet the statue lives on in your heart, Gabe.” He gave a mirthless little chuckle. “It’s alright. This time, they’ll have no choice but to build a statue that doesn’t look like you, instead.”

Reaper suddenly stood up, and with the pressure off his spine, Gabriel scrambled to his feet and was instantly at Jack’s side.

“For fuck’s sake,” the blonde sighed. “You idiot, get out of here.”

“No,” Gabriel replied quietly, wiping the tears off his face before he wrapped his arms around Jack. “No one left behind. Least of all you.”

“Reaper!” Soldier 76 yelled. “Take him and go! Right now!”

The metallic mask was turned toward the younger men, and Reaper stood eerily still, save for a tendril of shadow that had begun snaking its way toward the old soldier. But when Young Jack threw his arms around Gabriel’s neck in a proper embrace, Reaper seemed to give himself a little shake. The shadow tendril stopped, very close to Soldier 76’s boot. The metallic mask swung slowly to face the soldier.

“There are two major reasons why everything went to shit for us, Jack,” the older Gabriel said quietly. “I have spent the last seven years gathering intel, infiltrating that nest of vipers, trying to find the answers. I am so close to cracking Talon wide open. _Talon_ split us apart, _Talon_ took Amélie and Gerard and Ana and so many others away from us, _Talon_ infiltrated Overwatch right under our noses, and _Talon_ set the bomb. Talon is one of the major reasons why we failed.”

He let out a deep breath. “But Jack, listen to me, because this is important. _We_ failed too. You and me, we failed hard. We failed to see it coming yes, but more importantly, when things started to go bad, we failed each other. You were drowning in all that shit the UN was dumping on you and I wasn’t there for you, and I did a lot of bad shit that made your job harder. I also didn’t let you be there for me. I didn’t know how to tell you about Moira and…and _this…_ ” Reaper held up a hand, which turned to smoke. “I was terrified, Jack. I was scared of what she made me into, and I was…sure you would reject me when you found out. I forgot that trusting you was the _only_ way I’ve ever won anything in my life. Then the bomb went off and Talon managed to brand me as the traitor and I came back to life and you were fucking dead. All I had left was anger and revenge. Until Cairo. I said a lot of dumb shit in Cairo, Jack. I lost control because I was emotional, and I was _wrong_.”

There was a heavy silence. Gabriel glanced at Reaper and saw him give another shiver, one of his hands tightened into a fist. He looked distracted, but continued talking after a moment.

“But you know, Jack, you’re right, there is an easy way to guarantee that none of that shit ever happens,” Reaper said. “It’s like I just told you…trusting you is in the only way I’ve ever succeeded. We kept each other going through the worst of SEP. We kicked so much ass during the Omnic Crisis. We successfully founded and ran an impossible organization like Overwatch for three decades. And we failed spectacularly. We did all of that together.” He slipped one of his shotguns from its holster.

For the first time in several minutes, Soldier 76 stirred. His head snapped around even though the hand with the pistol didn’t move. “The fuck are you doing, Reaper?”

“I’m trusting you, Jack. I’m trusting that you’re right, that this is the better way.”

Gabriel felt Jack tense even more in his arms, but neither of them moved as they found themselves staring down the barrel of that snow white shotgun.

“You can’t do that,” Soldier 76 protested. “The Crisis isn’t over! The world still needs Gabriel Reyes.”

“Fuck the world,” Reaper growled. “What did the world ever do for us? We gave up our youth and our dreams to save it, and in return we were stuck with the responsibility of cleaning up a mess we never created, and later the world shit on us both.”

 _Click._ The safety went off.

For a moment there was an utter absence of sound; no one dared to breathe. Gabriel missed the sound of the wind howling outside, of snow and ice peppering the windows, and of the house groaning under the force of the storm. He missed the crackling of the fireplace, the coffee pot boiling, the snoring in his ear at night, and the sound of Jack’s passionate abandon, no matter which Jack it was, or which Gabriel was pleasuring him.

The silence was deafening.

“You’re bluffing,” Old Jack said finally. His ventilator gave off a harsh gasp as he took a breath.

Reaper’s gun never wavered as he ripped off his mask with his free hand and turned to give the white-haired soldier a calm, measured look. “I’m not,” he replied quietly. “If you are going to remove yourself from history then so am I. Because Gabriel Reyes will always fail without Jack Morrison watching his six. Don’t worry about the world. Ana is smart, smarter than the both of us, really. She’ll succeed where we failed.”

As if summoned, Gabriel’s comm crackled gently. “ _Reyes. Morrison. We’re almost at the rendezvous point._ ”

“Shit,” Gabriel muttered.

“Look, whatever you do, do it fast. If we don’t answer our comms, the team is going to come looking for us,” Jack spoke up. “They’re approaching the rendezvous point now.”

Neither of their older selves said anything, or even moved. Pistol and shotgun never wavered, but Reaper and Soldier 76 continued to stare at one another, a contest of wills.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Soldier 76 lowered his arm. “You stubborn son of a bitch,” he whispered. “You and your stupid fucking chess games. Fine, Gabriel, _fine_ …. we’ll try it your way first.” His head turned slightly, and both of the younger soldiers knew he was focused on them now. “Don’t fuck this up, Jack. You both have a chance to do this right.”

“Help me not fuck it up,” Jack replied.

Soldier 76 gave a slight nod. He slid the gun back into his side holster and started to turn away, as if to leave the room.

The white shotgun dissipated into fine black smoke, but the older Gabriel made a sound, like a soft gasp. When Gabriel looked at him, he saw his older self had sunk to his knees with his hands over his face and black smoke wafting off his body in droves. His shoulders sagged as if he carried the weight of the world and he was shivering violently. Old Gabe was whispering under his breath, and although Gabriel’s enhanced hearing couldn’t pick up specifics, he thought the man was reciting a list of…names?

In his arms, Jack suddenly twitched and he took in a breath, as if to call out a warning.

But it was too late.

The forgotten tendril of shadow on the floor came to life, whipping through the air after the departing Soldier 76 and wrapping itself swiftly around his chest, and judging from his surprised gasp, constricting. Despite his super strength, the soldier couldn’t seem to tear himself away, and in fact the tendril forcefully yanked him backwards, even as another shadow tentacle whipped around to wrap securely around his throat, cutting off his air. The soldier, choking, clawed uselessly at this new threat, trying but never able to grasp at the shadows. One of the tendrils ripped the soldier’s facemask and visor off, sending them crashing carelessly to floor. His pale skin was already turning…grey?

“Stop!” old Gabe cried out in anguish, dropping his hands from his face. There were tears drifting down his face. “I don’t want this!”

The Reaper did not stop. The soldier’s desperate scrabbling at the shadows was lessening and he surely would have sunk to his knees by now if they were not holding him up.

 “ _Commander Reyes, do you copy_? _Captain Morrison_?” Ana’s voice in his ear jolted Gabriel awake, making him realize he was frozen, staring stupidly, horrified. His hand immediately went to his holster, but he discarded the notion almost as soon as it entered his head. Setting off a shotgun in a room this enclosed was not a good idea. His eyes went to the wooden block with the kitchen knives next to the sink. Would that even work?

Jack left his side, took several steps forward, and before Gabriel could yell at him to not be dumb, the blonde reached out and touched one of the deadly shadow tendrils.

“Reaper,” he said quietly. “Stop. Please. Soldier 76 is me, and I am him. By killing him, you are killing _me._ ”

One, two, three breaths, and Gabriel was reaching for the largest knife on the wooden block, when the shadow tendrils loosened their deathly grip on old Jack, and the man desperately gulped in air. He dropped harshly to the pale linoleum as the shadows retreated, slithering across the yellow tiles back to their host, save for one thin and harmless-looking little tendril that reached for Jack’s hand, wrapping tenderly around his wrist and rubbing against his palm briefly before it simply dissipated into a puff of black smoke.

Reap—no, _Gabriel,_ was hunched over so far that his forehead nearly touched the floor, arms tightly wrapped around his middle. With his hood drawn up, all they could see was the white of his leather coat, but his shoulders were shaking. Little wisps of black smoke were still coming off his body.

“Ana,” Gabriel said quietly, tapping his comm. “Stand by.” He realized his hand was quivering, and when Jack turned to him, the blonde seemed just as shaken.

Soldier 76, previously lying quite still while he simply breathed again, struggled to sit up. He twisted around, rubbing a hand to his sore throat, giving a bit of a cough. “Gabe,” he said. His voice was even rougher than before. “Are you alright?”

He wasn’t looking at young Gabriel. It took several seconds of silence for old Gabriel to realize he was being addressed, and slowly he uncurled and looked up, face wet but his expression incredulous.

“Am I…am _I_ alright?” he echoed. He processed this for a moment, before he suddenly gave a short laugh. “My nanites were literally trying to eat you just now, and you’re worried about me. Morrison, you fucking boyscout.”

Soldier 76 gave him a bit of a sheepish grin.

Old Gabriel sat properly now, his back to a cabinet, his legs drawn up against his chest. He turned his face up toward the ceiling and closed his eyes. “I’m fine. Fuck, Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay. That wasn’t you,” Old Jack said. The white-haired man dragged himself across the floor to sit beside him. “I take it Reaper was pissed off by me losing my shit?”

Old Gabriel let out a deep breath. “Little bit. Jack…we need to talk. About everything.”

“I…I agree.”

It was like they had forgotten their younger selves were even in the room. Jack and Gabriel exchanged looks, before the blonde nodded toward the doorway, indicating they should leave. They quietly headed that way.

“Jack, I’m sorry. I…shouldn’t have tried to kill you. You deserve a chance to make it all right. You both do,” Soldier 76 said.

The blonde stopped. “It’s alright. I…I think it’s normal for me to fly off the handle when I’m scared or upset,” he said finally. “Just…help us, okay?”

“That is the plan,” old Gabe replied.

“Knock ‘em dead today,” Soldier 76 said. His faded blue eyes were tired, but for the first time since they had met him, there seemed to be a slight shine to them.

Gabriel nodded, but he paused and peered at them. Goddamn, they looked so exhausted. “Are you going to be alright? Both of you?” he asked finally.

The old soldiers glanced at each other. “I think so. We’ll make it work. Somehow. We always do,” Gabriel replied finally. “Just focus on what you need to do.”

“And don’t get cocky,” Jack added.

Young Jack rolled his eyes. “Yes, dad.”

As he and Jack walked away, Gabriel tapped his comm. “Ana, we’re on our way,” he said.

“ _Acknowledged._ ”

 

****

Art for the climactic scene by my amazing BB artist, @pcturtl on Tumblr


	6. Chapter 6

On a muggy and lazy Sunday afternoon, Rafael King’s phone rang and he gave a loud sigh and a grumble as he sat up, slipping the phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. He’d been spread out in the grass in the shade of a gigantic dogwood, looking like he was desperate to remain cool in a typically hot August in Virginia, while his husband Jason stood nearby holding the leash to a panting white golden retriever.

To anyone who lived in this part of Fairfax and frequented this park, the retired gay couple was a familiar sight now after six months. They didn’t always have a dog, and often it was a different dog, but the nosy moms who’d asked about it were delighted to learn that Jason ran a dog-walking and -sitting business. But whether or not there was a dog involved, Jason or Rafael, or both, were quite often seen at the park jogging and hiking. Their favorite resting spot after a good run was right here, under the shade of this flowering dogwood, not far from the enclosed dog park, and directly within sight of a block of beautiful and expensive houses just across the street.

Jason squatted beside the panting dog, noticing the water bowl was empty, and he slipped a water bottle from the pocket of his backpack and poured a fresh amount out. It wouldn’t do for his neighbor’s precious Daisy to get overheated and sick. Daisy gave a low whine of appreciation and sat up to lap at the water, accepting the friendly pat the white-haired man gave her.

“What’s the date?” Rafael asked suddenly, glaring at his phone.

“August 16,” Jason replied. When his ‘husband’ didn’t reply and just kept letting the phone ring, he looked up. “Well? Are you going to—” He paused, catching sight of the apprehensive look on Rafael’s dark face. “Goddammit, answer it!” he snapped.

“He wouldn’t call unless something was wrong,” the darker man muttered. He reflexively tossed his head, even though his long hair was pulled back with a black hair tie, and answered the phone. Jason edged closer, looking around to keep an eye out for anyone getting too close. Thankfully, the park was mostly empty. He absently pushed his sunglasses up his nose, also scanning the houses across the street, and seeing no movement, he looked at his partner. He furrowed a white brow because it didn’t sound like anyone had said anything on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” Gabriel said again, insistently.

“ _I…I fucked up, G—Rafael._ ” This was said quietly and it was only because Jack had super soldier hearing that he even heard it.

Jack stiffened, and watched as his partner went rigid with tension. The white-haired man glanced around again, this time a bit more nervously, before he nudged his partner with a scarred, pale knee.

“You’re smoking,” he murmured.

Gabe pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes closed.

“What the fuck do you mean you fucked up?” he finally said, in a voice that was far calmer than his body language suggested.

“ _I tried to get here as soon as I could, I even pissed off Portero by ditching the fight in Mexico City, I made a pretty convincing argument about my intel, but we encountered resistance on our way here._ ” The voice on the other end was still quiet and hushed, but rushing now through the words. “ _I…didn’t get to Dorado in time, okay_?”

Daisy stood up, whining softly and pressing against Gabriel’s leg worriedly. Jack looked around again before he snatched the phone from a silent Gabriel, and instead shoved Daisy’s leash into his partner’s hand. Then he grabbed Gabriel’s arm and started walking rapidly back toward their apartment building, which was only a block away.

“What happened to the girl and her parents?” Jack demanded into the phone.

He kept glancing around to make sure no one walked too close; he couldn’t count on Gabriel to keep watch right now. He was fairly certain Reaper was about to have a meltdown, right in public view. He hastened their pace, poor Daisy trotting now to keep up with them, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth. Belatedly he realized they’d left her bowl in the grass. Fuck it.

“ _There was so much goddamn fighting on the streets, so many fucking units. We had to fight our way through it all, and by the time I got to their street, the houses had collapsed. Fucking bastion tanks._ ”

Young Gabriel sounded intensely stressed and Jack was sure that he might have been about to cry. They were running up the steps to their second floor apartment, Jack already had the key out, and the minute they were inside, he felt a great deal less exposed. Too many years running and hiding as a vigilante in a post-Overwatch world made for some very difficult habits to break.

“Gabriel, calm down and tell me—” Jack started.

Gabriel snatched the phone back from him.

“The girl? What about the girl?” he snarled.

“ _I couldn’t save her parents. I’m sorry! I tried, I really tried. The girl is fine, we unburied her and she wasn’t injured, but her parents died in the collapse._ ”

Jack watched as Gabriel sat down hard on the floor right in the hallway, letting out a deep breath and a cloud of black smoke, his shoulders drooping. “You asshole, don’t scare me like that. Okay look…yes the goal was to save her parents, but you tried. It’s not your fault. They didn’t make it in my time either. She’s still alive and that’s what matters.”

Jack let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He walked away, needing a moment. Gabriel had been so adamant about saving this girl and her parents, almost manic when he’d been explaining to his younger self exactly when and where he needed to be and what he needed to do. Jack put out a fresh bowl of water for Daisy, taking a moment to pat her gently, before he returned to the hallway. Gabriel had slid over to lean his back against one of the walls, and Jack sat down next to him.

“Tell me everything that happened, in detail,” Gabriel was saying.

Talking it out seemed to calm the younger Gabriel down, at least.

“Alright, where is she…Olivia?” Gabriel said. 

“ _Uhh…the orphanage, I guess_? _We got her and other survivors to a medical tent and then we headed back to clear out the rest of the omnics. Been at it for a couple of days. There’s more to do, but my team needed a break._ ”

Gabriel smacked the back of his head against the wall a few times, silently.

“There’s…something else I need you to do for her,” he said finally, apparently making a decision.

“ _Okay_?”

“You’re not going to like it, not at first. Just hear me out, okay?”

Jack frowned. Gabriel had been so certain that the Strike Team could save Olivia’s parents from their fate, that he hadn’t mentioned any contingency plans in case they couldn’t.

“Gabriel, you need to go to the orphanage and find her,” he continued quietly. “And you need to tell them that you want to adopt her when the war is over and take her back home with you. And make sure you tell _her_ that, or she won’t be there when you get back.”

Jack’s eyes widened and he mouthed the word ‘what?’ at the same time he heard Gabriel on the other end shout it into the phone.

“ _Are you fucking crazy_? _I’m fighting a war! And then we have all this other shit to deal with afterwards. The hell am I going to do with a kid—_ ”

“Gabriel, shut the fuck up and listen,” Reaper growled. “You can adopt her now, or you can adopt her when she’s in her 30s. It will happen either way. The difference is that if you do it now, she’ll be spared a life on the streets. She’ll have a family. She will wiggle her way into your life anyway, whether you want it or not. She’s really…really important to me. A giant pain in my ass, but important. She will be really important to you, too.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while. “ _How am I supposed to provide her a better life, with the crap that’s coming my way_?”

“How does any parent? You’ll figure it out. Taking her home with you is better than leaving her to survive alone,” Gabriel replied softly. “This…isn’t in the script. I get it, it’s kind of a big deal.”

“ _Kind of_ …? Pendejo, _what the hell_? _Besides, have you considered she might not want to come with me_? _She doesn’t know me. What if it’s not what she wants_?”

“Then it’s not what she wants and we’ll leave her to her scripted fate. But you pulled her out of the rubble, didn’t you? She knows you, Gabe. Talk to her. Just, trust me.”

More silence. Then: “ _I have to go._ ”

Before Gabriel could say another word, the line went dead. He set the phone down and stared blankly at the wall in front of them. Jack remained silent. When he was stressed or having to work through a complicated problem Gabriel was a loud thinker; he was all but silently shouting right then. This was supposed to be the first test for changing the future. This was supposed to be easy: just get to Dorado earlier and save the parents, not just the child. And yet the universe had resisted that attempt.

It didn’t necessarily bode well for their other plans. But Jack didn’t bring up his misgivings. He could tell Gabriel was doubting himself enough. “One failure doesn’t mean it’s all written in stone, Gabe,” he said quietly.

“Yeah. Logically, I know that,” came the reply. Gabriel paused. “It’s so fucked, though. They arrived in Dorado three days earlier than we did, and yet the same houses on the same street fell to what was probably the same bastion tank. But none of the rest of the battle even went the same way.” He looked up at the ceiling and scowled. “It’s like I’m being fucked with by a force I can’t see.”

Jack said nothing.

“I should have gone to Dorado myself,” Gabriel grumbled after a moment.

“Too many witnesses. I remember. There were people everywhere on the streets, so many homeless after the attack,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “Gabe didn’t do anything wrong anyway. If anything, he risked his team and possibly Mexico City to do what you asked of him.”

“Fuck Mexico City,” Gabriel said. “The fighting was winding down already. You remember. Portero delayed us there for no reason. The death toll in Dorado was much higher because he wanted to preen in front of the cameras with American super soldiers, like the peacock that he is. Asshole. Gabriel did change the script already. Fighting his way through a stream of omnics to get to Dorado early saved a shit ton more lives.” He clambered to his feet. “I’m going to check the surveillance.”

He was down the hall when Jack called out to him. “Hey, uhh…Gabe?” When the darker man looked over his shoulder, Jack hesitated. Then he blurted out the question. “Olivia Colomar…Sombra?”

Reaper blinked at him for a moment. Then he kept walking. But the other man heard his response nonetheless. “Yeah, Jack. Sombra.”

 

Jack stayed in the hallway long enough that Daisy wandered over to lay her head in his lap with a soft whine and his ass started to go numb. He absently spun the wedding band on his finger. It was a fake. The dog-walking and sitting business Jason King ran was a front so they had an excuse to constantly be at the park, watching the house across the street, even though Gabriel had already wraithed in and set up hidden cameras and a few bugs. When things went down, Gabe wanted them close by.

Rafael and Jason King also had rings and a marriage license and nice pictures at the courthouse. Technically speaking, back in their time, Jack and Gabriel had had those things at one point in their lives too. Jack still had both of their rings safely hanging from the chain around his neck, along with his dog tags.

They had decided not to use their actual rings for their roleplaying. Gabriel had been surprised he even had them. He thought they had been lost in the explosion. He told Jack to keep them. They slept in separate rooms, ‘slept’ being a relative term since Gabe didn’t really sleep. Jack lay his hand over his heart, feeling the rings under his shirt. He didn’t know if they’d ever wear them again. Didn’t know if they ever could.

Jack shook his head at himself. They had talked a lot in the eight months since Romania. They had also argued a lot. Jack was privy to every detail of the plan Gabriel had in mind. He’d gone along with Gabriel’s scheme to rob a few banks in Italy, had even helped him do surveillance on those banks beforehand. At first he’d been completely against doing so, until Gabriel told him they belonged to the Vialli family: war profiteers. In the future, the currently young Matteo Vialli would become one of Talon’s leaders and the primary source of funding for the terrorist organization. Jack had asked if they could rob all of the Vialli banks then. But Gabriel didn’t want to attract too much attention this early in the game so they limited it to two. It had given them a handsome nest egg with which to operate.

On their way through Europe, they’d even fought a few lingering omnics. Most of Europe was clear by now, thanks to the Strike Team shutting down the Odin AI in Germany in the mission that had killed Liao, and their subsequent shutting down of other major omniums. Romania had been the last, after which the Strike Team was shipped to South America, Argentina to be specific, and worked their way north toward the God AI that had set up shop in Mexico. But a few tiny omniums in Europe had still been operating, left to the mercy of local forces while the Strike Team sought bigger prey. Just for shits and giggles, and to allay boredom while they waited for the Strike Team to get to Mexico, Soldier 76 and Reaper had shut down a few small omniums by themselves, much to the confusion of local authorities.

Jack hadn’t said so out loud, but doing that again, shutting down omniums with Gabriel at his side, made him feel the most alive he had in a long, long time. And although Gabriel hadn’t said anything either, he’d been decidedly less grumpy.

Through all of that, despite their best efforts to talk as much as they could, Jack still felt a wall existed between them. Gabriel was too on his guard to talk about his feelings very often. To be fair Jack was afraid to open himself up any more. The years before the Fall had taught him just how cruel an angry Gabriel Reyes could be, and that Jack Morrison didn’t handle stress very well without Gabe or Ana there to ground him. It was safer to keep the wall up.

And yet, there he sat in the hallway in their pretend married home, kept his hand pressed over his heart and those precious rings that had once meant so much to both of them, as he contemplated the painful pang in his heart at the idea of a young Gabriel—and by extension, a young Jack—adopting a little Mexican war orphan.

 _Why didn’t we think of doing that_? He wondered.

But that answer was easy.

He and Gabriel had allowed Overwatch consume every part of their lives. And in his opinion, that was the most important part of the script that needed changing.

 

Muggy summer had melted, finally, into cooler autumn days punctuated by the steady yellow, red, and orange leaves that appeared to set quiet afternoons on fire as the sun started to set. Virginia was beautiful in the fall and Jack could almost feel relaxed as he headed up the stairs to the second floor with Bunny, a fluffy snow-white Pomeranian, trotting along beside him.

The minute he entered the apartment, he was hit with the tantalizing scents of spices and cooked meat, and his stomach instantly growled. He slipped the harness off Bunny and set her free, and she immediately yapped excitedly and ran to find her stuffed rabbit toy, which she fell upon with a ferocity that belied her small size.

Bunny ferociously chewed a lot of things. Including shoes. Jack almost smiled when he remembered Gabriel shouting a few days ago about ‘that damned fluffball’ ruining a good pair of running shoes.

“I know cats bigger than you, asshole!” Gabriel had growled before storming off.

Bunny had taken the insult in stride. Later, after dinner when Gabe had settled down to scan through the various news channels for information on the state of the war, he didn’t complain when Bunny jumped into his lap. Jack may or may not have quietly taken a picture with his phone. Blonde Jack would get a kick out of it later, he was sure.

Jack hung the harness and leash and walked into the living room, where he found the holovid was on, turned to a Spanish news channel that was currently reporting on the war’s devastating effects on the world's food supply. Gabriel was curled up on the far end of the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and he didn’t look up, although he must have been aware of Jack’s presence. The soldier wasn’t surprised; when his partner wasn’t “feeling well” he tended to get surly. That’s what Jason had told the disappointed kids and parents this evening at the park: that Rafael wasn’t feeling well. It was Tuesday and normally Rafael played soccer with the local kids, per the request of the parents, particularly one Linda Cooper.

Jack didn’t know shit all about soccer, except what he’d picked up from Gabriel whenever the World Cup was on years ago, but he’d played with the kids that evening, to make up for Rafael’s sudden absence. Besides, it had given him a chance to talk to Mrs. Cooper afterwards.

“I found out something interesting,” Jack said.

Gabriel peeked out of his blanket cocoon with a frown, lowering the volume and looking at him expectantly. His skin wasn’t its normal healthy dark brown; it was fading toward that somewhat pale ashen gray that signaled he needed to feed soon. His eyes were also red and glowy, and there was something not quite…right about his facial features. But Jack didn’t even look twice; he’d grown accustomed to his partner’s changing features and unusual needs. Gabriel would ‘hunt’ later that night.

“Linda and Ben are leaving in a couple of days to fly down to Florida to visit her mother,” Jack said. “But Dr. Cooper isn’t. She was pretty upset. I guess he kind of pushed her to leave a few weeks early, because he was too busy with a project and wanted the family to leave him alone.”

Gabriel blinked at him. After a few minutes of considering this, he grunted. “Dinner is in the oven,” he said. Then he turned away to look back at the holovid.

Jack walked into the kitchen to retrieve the dish from the oven. His mouth was practically watering as he plated the food, which was covered in still-bubbling cheese. He noticed a pot of coffee had recently been brewed, and he served a mug of this and headed back into the living room. The mug he placed in front of Gabriel, who was still staring blankly at the news, although Jack could tell he wasn’t listening to it anymore.

Jack settled down on the other end of the couch to start wolfing down the delicious meal. Months ago he would have felt awkward at the fact that he was the only one eating. The first time Gabriel had yelled at him for his poor eating habits—born of the fact that Gabriel had opened the fridge looking for a beer and had found nothing in there that qualified as food—the man had ended up storming out the door without a word on where he was going. Jack had retreated to the surveillance room, nibbling on a protein bar, which was what he had kept around for eating. He wasn’t used to eating much, with his life on the run as a vigilante and never with all that many resources available to begin with. He’d been stunned when Gabriel returned with shopping bags and had whipped up a meal for him. And much to his chagrin, Gabe had served none for himself.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Jack had asked, when he was somewhat forcefully shoved into a seat at the small round dining table.

“Don’t need to,” Gabriel had replied, although he had sat down at the table too, with a mug of coffee. “Just eat, Jack. You’re a super soldier, for fuck’s sake. No wonder you look like shit.”

“You can’t eat?” Jack had persisted.

“There’s no point. The nanites can absorb food, it’s organic material, but the amount of energy they receive is minimal.” Gabriel had paused. “There’s no point for me personally either. Ever since Zurich, everything tastes like burnt metal. Except alcohol and coffee. Coffee tastes funny, like it’s not exactly the way I remember it tasting before. But at least I can taste it. And the warmth is nice.”

Jack had fallen silent, wolfing down the delicious meal, but inwardly seething. Eating heartily and cooking had been a big part of Gabriel’s childhood, with plenty of memories of spending time in the kitchen with his beloved Abuela. Jack remembered visiting the Reyes home right after the Crisis and being stunned at how much food was always present at mealtimes, and how loud and boisterous and joyful it all seemed, because in their culture, meals weren’t just about food, but about who you were sharing the meal with. Gabriel’s mother had told Jack that all meals in her household were made with love, the key ingredient, and that mealtimes weren’t just about nourishing the body, but also about nourishing the soul of her family.

When things were still good between them and Gabriel hadn’t been away on a mission, he had cooked for Jack, and Jack knew that there was plenty of love in the making of those meals too.

It hurt Jack’s soul to know that Talon had taken all of that away from Gabriel.

He didn’t know what the meals Gabriel made for him now were made with, but if not love then at least with care. They still tasted as good as he remembered.

Bunny trotted around the couch, whuffling as she stood up on her hind legs, doing her little ‘begging’ dance that her owner had taught her. With a sigh, Gabriel reached down, and she gave a happy little yap and settled on his lap. “You are the most confused animal on the planet, you know that? A dog named rabbit that thinks she’s a cat,” Gabe grumbled. Bunny gave a sharp little bark in response before she settled down for a well-deserved nap. He now had the coffee in hand, sipping at it absently, and a moment later he muted the holovid.

“Something’s changed,” Gabriel said, frowning thoughtfully. “I was trying to recall the exact details of the story that I read about Cooper’s death, in our time. His family went away on vacation, and they came back to find his body. But that’s still three weeks away. Why would he send them away now?”

Jack swallowed a mouthful of chicken enchilada, which was covered in Gabriel’s fresh homemade salsa and guacamole. For a man who couldn’t taste, Gabe still knew his way around the kitchen, that’s for sure.

“You think he knows there’s danger coming? Thing is, Linda said they were only going to Florida for a week.”

Gabriel fell silent again, although Jack perceived the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. Gabe looked contemplative. Jack finished his meal and took his dish and Gabe’s empty mug to be washed, along with the used pots and pans still on the range. While Jack’s hands were wet and sudsy, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It was a few minutes before he was done cleaning up, and only when his hands were dry did he reached for the phone. There was a text message waiting for him.

_Q down. Yesterday._

Jack stared at it for a long time. The contact name said Patrick, which was his middle name. He’d done that to allay suspicion in case his phone was ever lost or hacked. Gabriel had marked their younger selves as ‘Mijo’ and ‘Guerro’ (Jack’s phone marked the younger Gabe as Tony, since his middle name was Antonio, although Gabriel had openly winced when Jack had shown him that. _Don’t ever call him that. He’ll kill you. Don’t call me that either. I’ll kill you too_ ).

The soldier walked back out into the living room. Gabriel was scowling at the holovid. He had his phone in one hand, and the other was absently stroking Bunny.

“You got the message?” Jack asked.

Reaper turned a glazed stare on him, as if he weren’t actually seeing Jack. After a moment, he blinked and came out of his thoughts. “They brought Quetzalcoatl down 3 weeks early. It can’t be coincidence that Cooper is sending his family away, which may indicate his assassination is going to be early too. I wish I had read more than one news story about it. Things were so damned busy for us. But Cooper’s death barely registered on anyone’s radar, because at the time people were celebrating the end of the war. The police chalked it up to a breaking and entering gone wrong. But that’s bullshit. Even decades after his death, Talon had an interest in Dr. Cooper’s research.”

Jack contemplated that as he sank down onto the couch. “You’re saying that whoever ordered Cooper’s assassination is in the UN right now, because how else could they know this suddenly that the war is about to end? And they use that to cover up any questions about his death.”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “The UN. Or maybe the CIA. Or someone else high in the US government. I mean that’s not surprising. Talon is young right now, but Bartalotti was always good about weaseling his way into the political scene.” He scowled openly and Jack winced. He didn’t want to think about the Venetian arms dealer and the mess his ‘end’ had made for Overwatch. “I’m curious how Cooper knows trouble is coming though.”

Jack grunted, glancing down at his phone again. They hadn’t heard from the Strike Team since the phone call in August, but they had anticipated that. He typed back at ‘Patrick,’: _congratulations._ But he didn’t bother with a longer message. The team still had cleanup work to do and would be busy mopping up the last hostile omnic forces in Mexico for a few days yet. He got up and started away, toward the surveillance room, but paused at the threshold of the living room.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said sincerely.

Gabriel’s glowing red eyes flickered to him and he nodded once.

 

Linda Cooper and her son Benjamin left for Florida on Thursday. Gabriel and Jack amped up their surveillance, one of them frequently out in the park, the other keeping an eye on the cameras. And since Gabriel didn’t need to sleep, he watched the cameras at night.

But nothing happened all that weekend with their target.

On Monday, something did happen.

They were heading home in the early evening, walking both Bunny and Daisy—who had been dropped off the night before by her dad—when there was a very loud alert klaxon, and they both tensed, decades of battle readiness not about to be drummed out of them due to a pretend-suburban life. The dogs whined and Bunny slid back behind Gabriel. He absently picked her up in his arms, even as he and Jack were drawn to look at the giant holo billboard located along the main drag on the other side of their apartment building. The billboard, which normally flashed advertisements, had gone black, except for the giant red letters that said, “Breaking News.”

Their phones buzzed simultaneously in their pockets, and they could tell that was true for a lot of folks around them, because people all over the park were pausing their activities to look at their phones or the billboard.

“Emergency broadcast channel,” Gabriel muttered to Jack, who nodded.

“End of the Crisis, you think?”

“Has to be.”

Sure enough, the billboard’s Breaking News faded away to reveal the President of the United States, a stately dark-haired woman who stood behind a podium on a sunny stage, which Jack knew immediately was located in California. To her left was a Nigerian woman that Jack recognized as Gabrielle Adawe, Under-Secretary General of the United Nations and the founder of Overwatch, and to the President’s right was an older, white-haired man that Jack knew was General Michael Lancaster, the American general who had been part of the international coalition the UN had convened to end the Omnic Crisis. Because the Overwatch Strike Team had been led by a couple of American super soldiers, General Lancaster had been their main contact and their direct superior.

And behind the three of them were the five surviving members of the Strike Team. All five of them were dressed in their Overwatch dress blues, looking quite formal and well-groomed, with even Torbjörn’s luxurious beard neatly trimmed. Jack knew it was the first time any of them had worn those suits. His lips twitched at the memory of Torb pitching a fit when the President’s PR people had insisted he shave his beard off entirely. Not to mention the audible growl Gabriel had given when those same people had said they needed to hide his unsightly facial scars with makeup.

“I _earned_ these,” Gabriel had snapped.

And the ever-calm Adawe had intervened, shooing the PR people off and telling them that the beard was fine, just groom it a bit, and that absolutely he could keep his visible scars because he was right, he _had_ earned them. It wasn’t an accident that Adawe had been such a successful politician and public servant for as long as she had.

“Good afternoon, my fellow Americans,” the president started serenely.

“Let’s get off the streets,” Gabriel said.

The president continued her speech, and they knew when she announced the end of the war because they heard a cacophony of shouting and cheers and cars honking from all over the neighborhood. Even on the holovid, the president had to pause because there was much noise from the press and military personnel present.

By the time Jack and Gabriel were inside the apartment, letting the dogs loose and turning on the news in the living room, the president had introduced Gabrielle Adawe from the UN. Adawe was explaining what the Overwatch initiative was, what the Strike Team had accomplished quietly during the last five years, particularly the shutting down of four God AIs and countless omniums. And then she introduced the six members, starting with a moment of silence to honor the deceased Liao Jinhai of the People’s Republic of China, who had given his life in Germany so that his team could successfully quarantine Odin.

She introduced Captain Morrison and Commander Reyes last, because the moment she mentioned they were both American born and raised, she lost her audience in a torrent of cheers and shouts, which were echoed on the streets and homes of Fairfax and all over the country, probably.

It was odd to watch this from this side, because Jack distinctly remembered what it felt like to be up on that stage. The team had been exhausted, wanting nothing more than several days of uninterrupted sleep. And yet they had been expected, of course, to parade in front of cameras and reporters and look goddamn chipper about it (a feat which Gabriel had definitely not managed). Jack remembered how surreal it had felt to stand behind the President and Adawe, the California sun warm on his face, all of the team still struggling to let go of the feeling that at any moment a dozen omnic units would burst in to start shooting, because that’s what the last exhausting three weeks had been like for them. Hell, that’s what the last ten years had been like for them, really.

Jack felt for their younger selves, but he also felt a sense of pride. He glanced at Gabriel and noticed he wasn’t really paying attention to the TV, busy scrolling through their camera feeds via his phone with one hand, and absently stroking Bunny with the other. Jack smiled. He was sure Gabe would never admit it, but when Bunny went home in two days, she would be missed. He also wondered if the reason Gabe wasn’t paying full attention to the broadcast was because he remembered the anxiety the entire thing had given him. Jack hadn’t even been aware at the time that Gabriel was internally freaking out. This was a man who had faced down armies of hostile omnic units for years, and yet cameras and reporters made him want to hide. It wasn’t until that night, alone in their hotel room, that Gabe had told him how out of sorts he’d felt.

This Gabriel stood up now, even as the President rejoined Adawe at the podium to answer a few questions from the Press about the end of the war and the apparent peace accord reached with the remaining omniums. Jack glanced at him curiously, because there was a trail of smoke as he moved into the kitchen, and the soldier had learned that meant either Reaper was aggravated or Gabriel was becoming emotional. He knew better than to follow and badger him yet.

A little while later, when the President wrapped up and the cameras followed her as she was escorted to her armored vehicle, Gabriel came back with a fresh cup of coffee for himself, and he offered Jack a mug as well. On the TV, the President’s vehicle was pulling away from the military base, and the cameras turned their attention back to Adawe, Lancaster, and the Strike Team. They were off the stage now, lingering near the black transport that the Strike Team had flown in on from Mexico and Santa Fe. There were several other people around them: Adawe and Lancaster’s personal assistants, as well as members of the President’s PR team, the latter of which were there to give the Strike Team members reminders on what to say and what _not_ to say to the reporters, because in a few minutes they would have to walk the gauntlet toward the military base and they would have to stop to talk to the cameras.

Gabriel was pacing in the space behind the couch, holding a hot cup of coffee but not drinking out of it. Jack set his mug down on the coffee table and turned his body to watch him.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked. “Why are you so anxious?”

He received a red-eyed glare for his trouble.

That whole talking thing was still a work in progress.

Jack sighed and looked back at the broadcast. The entourage was moving away from the transport finally, Lancaster and Adawe first, followed by Jack and Gabriel walking together, and finally Reinhardt, Torb, and Ana together. The cameras followed their movement, the transport soon out of sight. The older Gabriel gave a curse under his breath.

But then the camera picked up movement behind Ana, even as the Egyptian woman glanced back, something attracting her attention. Even though the camera was focused on Gabriel and Jack in that moment, it picked up Ana’s sudden grin and the glance she and Reinhardt shared over Torbjörn’s head. Adawe’s beleaguered assistant appeared briefly in the frame, looking like she was calling out, but then the cameraman turned his focus down to a small form that darted past Ana and right into the space between Jack and Gabriel, instantly latching onto the latter’s hand.

In Fairfax, Jack sat up quite suddenly on the couch. He barely registered the sound of the coffee mug shattering behind him.

It was a thin wisp of a little girl that had latched on to the younger Gabriel’s hand, her shiny black hair neatly trimmed in a bob around her cherubic face, and a purple and white sugar skull clipped into her hair on the side of her head. She was wearing a purple dress with white flowers on it, and matching purple slippers. The cameraman was deeply interested in the unexpected sight, keeping a focus on her, with Gabriel just within the frame. Thus, when she turned to face the much taller soldier and looked up at him, it was a perfect shot, not only of her adoring look, but of the genuine smile that broke Gabriel’s previously surly scowl.

The cameraman zoomed out enough to show that Adawe and Lancaster had stopped and the Nigerian woman spoke and made a motion for them to keep walking. She was smiling too. Pleased, Olivia turned another adoring smile on Gabriel before she straightened, facing forward with her back straight, prim and proper, and then expectantly held out her free hand to Jack. The blonde, for his part, blinked in surprise, before he returned her smile and took her hand in his.

They started walking again, and after a minute, Jack and Gabriel glanced at each other over Olivia’s head, sharing a huge grin, before they swung her off her feet, producing a delighted shriek from her that the microphone picked up. The reporter said she had no idea who the child was.

In Fairfax, Jack’s heart was almost beating out of his chest as he jumped to his feet, just in time to watch Gabriel _wraith_ toward the kitchen, something he hadn’t done since their last omnium fight in Europe. Jack ran after him.

“Gabe! Are you okay?” he said.

Gabriel was leaning against the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched, smoke coming off of him in plumes. There were a few tendrils of shadow on the floor, twitching and curling, and Jack kept a respectful distance, more than a little wary still of the Reaper entity after his close encounter in Romania.

“Fine,” Gabriel said after a moment, curtly. He didn’t turn around, but his voice sounded strange. Choked, almost. “Just…keep an eye on the surveillance cams, okay? We shouldn’t take our eyes off Cooper now.”

“Right,” Jack said quietly.

He retreated from the kitchen, taking out his phone and flipping on the app that let him scroll through their cameras. Meanwhile, the broadcast continued, with Adawe and Lancaster stopping to talk to some reporters. Jack wasn’t interested in what they were saying, so he flipped the channel over to one of the Spanish stations, because he was pretty sure…yup, the Univision reporter, and other Spanish-speaking reporters around her, were calling out. He turned on English subtitles.

“ _Comandante! Comandante!_ ”

On the screen, the younger Gabriel looked wary, but he approached them, because Adawe had told him he needed to talk to them. Olivia was still clutching his hand, although the younger Jack had disappeared (talking to another batch of reporters nearby, Jack remembered). The reporters started firing off questions, but before he could answer any of them, Olivia did something to catch his attention, and when he looked down, the raven-haired girl held up her arms, indicating she wanted to be picked up. Without hesitation he swept her into his arms easily, her slight weight hardly a challenge for a super soldier. With practiced ease he held her on his right hip, and she wrapped an arm around his neck. Almost instantly at her touch, the tension seemed to drain away from his shoulders and when he turned back to the reporters, he had a smile and his eyes were shining.

 _Holy shit,_ Jack thought to himself. _It’s like night and day. Christ, his smile slays._ Well, he personally knew that, of course, he’d always loved Gabe’s smile. But the world had never seen Gabriel Reyes like this before, at least not in Jack’s timeline.

The reporters and Gabe spoke in Spanish the entire time. They asked him about the war and about his winning strategy against the God AIs; about how long he’d been fighting; about the messy shutting down of the omnium in Rio months earlier. And then a Mexican reporter (judging from her accent), asked him about his decision to chase the omnic forces all the way to Dorado. The question was framed in such a way to suggest that President Portero of Mexico had not been in agreement. Gabriel deftly dodged the implied criticism of Portero, and instead said that his intel lead him to believe that his team could save a lot of lives in Dorado, so he made that call in the moment. When the same reporter asked him about the child, he mentioned that _his daughter_ was from Dorado, just one of hundreds of thousands of children all over the world left alone in the wake of the war, and that good people should open their homes to them whenever possible.

Olivia chose that moment to rest her head against Gabriel’s chest under his chin, giving a delicate little yawn. Gabriel placed a hand on her tenderly, thumb gently brushing her shiny black hair, and she burrowed deeper against him for comfort. Jack thought the female reporters might all melt, judging from their various “Awww” and “ _Que ternura_!” [[tn: how sweet!]] Jack jumped a little when behind him, Gabriel laughed.

“That fucking brat, such a manipulator, even at four.” He was far more composed than a few minutes earlier. He looked down at his phone, flipping through something. “Portero has got to be shitting himself right now. Judging from these headlines on websites and newspapers all over South America, the people are hailing Gabriel Reyes as their hero. And that reporter’s question wasn’t asked in a vacuum; Mexican media claims Portero refused to support the Strike Team with local forces after Mexico City was cleared.”

“Holy shit,” Jack said. “The Strike Team went into Dorado alone?”

During that phone call in August with Gabriel, the younger man hadn’t mentioned any of this.

“Nah, some of _Los_ _Federales_ and local cops defied their orders and followed the Strike Team in. Plus there were already a few scattered forces in Dorado. But still, someone leaked that Portero was fucking furious that Gabriel defied him and left Mexico City. And now Portero’s own people are pissed at him, because apparently he felt that Dorado and all the towns along the way weren’t worth saving. You remember how pissed off I was at that asshole at the time? I’m kind of mad at myself still for not telling him to fuck off, but Adawe asked me to back off. I wonder what Gabriel told her this time. Either way, he took a risk.” Gabe laughed again. “The unintended consequences of fucking with the timeline, but _Dios_ I’m glad about Portero. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving asshole.”

He slid his phone away into the pocket of his sweatpants and started picking up the shattered pieces of the mug.

“You won’t hear me complain. Portero is dirty. He’s at least working with Vishkar in the future,” Jack replied.

“Working with Vishkar possibly meant working for Talon, although I never really heard Portero’s name mentioned. If Talon ever had an interest in him, they probably lost it when Sombra and Los Muertos publicly disgraced his ass.” He stood up. “That bit about the war orphans…fucking genius. I don’t know who thought that up, probably Adawe, but positioning him as a champion of war orphans...”

Jack frowned. “He sounded sincere enough. And it’s not like it’s not a worthy cause.” He looked back at the TV. “Besides, he’s nowhere near as nervous as you were back then. I think the kid’s presence is helping him.”

Gabriel grunted and dumped the broken pieces before moving back over to the couch. The Univision reporter was back to talking to the camera, so Jack flipped the channels until he found one broadcasting the reporters interviewing Morrison.

 _Christ, I can’t believe I was ever that young and bubbly and fucking sincere,_ Jack thought to himself. _It’s no wonder I was their first choice to be Strike Commander. How did anyone put up with this shit_? _It’s obnoxious._ Honestly, his cheerful younger self made him kind of grumpy.

At one point, in the middle of an answer the blonde was giving, he interrupted himself by briefly hopping out of the camera’s frame, and came back a second later dragging Gabriel—and thus Olivia, who was still on his hip—into view. Jack didn’t remember doing that, in fact he was pretty sure his Gabriel would have seriously decked him later if he had. But despite the slight furrowing of his brow, young Gabriel didn’t seem that put off, and he ended up answering questions for the English-speaking reporters. He even got the chance to bring up war orphans again. He and Jack didn’t touch each other, but they did share a small laugh and knowing glance when a question caused them both to start talking at the same time. Gabe made a motion for Jack to continue.

 _You’d have to be blind to not realize how gay they are for each other,_ Jack thought. _How did we ever keep our relationship a secret_?

Then again, maybe it was just obvious to him. Or maybe he and his Gabe were just never that open. In public for sure, and maybe not in private either. Not for the first time since they’d started this strange journey to “change the script,” (as Gabriel called it), Jack was struck by how much they had allowed to slip through their fingers in their time. So much time wasted, so many opportunities lost.

Adawe was cutting the interviews short now, ushering her Strike Team away from the cameras and toward the base, despite the reporters continuing to call out questions. The younger Gabriel was still carrying Olivia, and the camera caught a moment when Gabe said something in the child’s ear, causing her to look up and nod, absently rubbing her hand over her eye as if she were tired. Gabriel dropped a tender kiss on her forehead, and she smiled and lay her head against his shoulder once more.

Jack once more felt his stomach clench. For his part, Reaper didn’t appear to react. His expression was blank. As the camera took a final shot of the entire Strike Team right before they disappeared into the building, Gabriel stood up and headed toward the kitchen, causing Bunny to get up from her bed near the window and follow him with excited yaps. The holovid had switched back to the newsroom anchors, so Jack turned it off and went into the kitchen as well. Gabe was pouring another cup of coffee, since his last one had ended up on the floor.

“You want the last of it?” he asked, holding up the pot.

“Umm, sure,” Jack replied. He retrieved his cup, gulped down what was in it, and returned to the kitchen. “Hey…Gabe,” he started softly. His stomach clenched with nerves, but something told him he needed to ask, needed to not let this moment slip away. When Gabriel, standing at the sink, gave him a curious look, Jack let out a deep breath. “Do you ever regret that we let Overwatch…” He made a motion back toward the living room, didn’t even complete the thought.

“Take over our lives completely?” Gabriel supplied quietly. When Jack nodded, he turned his back, busying himself with rinsing out the coffee pot.

Jack did not think he was going to get an answer, and there was that awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, the one he used to get at the end of their days with Overwatch when Gabriel seemed so distant and angry and unreachable. He started to turn away, certain the wall between them would never drop.

But then Gabriel shut off the water in the sink, wiped his hands on a dish towel, and walked past Jack on his way to the living room. Bunny followed at his heels, and nearly ran into him when he unexpectedly stopped and took a hold of Jack’s chin, forcing him to look up and into his eyes. Very gently, a slender tendril of shadow wrapped around Jack’s forearm, warm to the touch and not at all hostile.

“Yes,” Gabriel said simply, his dark eyes intense.

Then he picked up Bunny and kept walking.

 

When the last body dropped and a silence fell over the beautiful suburban home, the red laser of the Soldier’s visor did a visual sweep with thermal sight activated, making certain the last of their enemies were truly down, before he headed into the study. He was dressed all in black, wearing black cargo pants and a form-fitting black leather jacket—which his partner had made for him after insisting that he couldn’t wear the garish red, white and blue 76 jacket—and even his visor had been spray painted black.

“You just want me to be as edgy as you,” Jack had grumbled.

But secretly he was pleased with the supple leather jacket Gabriel had made for him. It fit better than the old one and the leather didn’t feel cheap or overly heavy, but Gabriel had woven a layer of thin but highly effective Kevlar weave on the inside of the jacket to stop bullets and blades.

“I prefer you to not be as dead as me,” Gabriel had snapped in reply. “Only you would run around killing thugs and picking fights with fucking Talon, without any kind of bullet proof vest or protection of any sort. _Idiota._ You’re lucky I didn’t tear you in half in Cairo.”

“You didn’t shoot to kill,” Jack had retorted.

Gabriel had sneered, but never denied it.

Jack holstered his guns now. He didn’t have his pulse rifle—that was back at home—because it would have been severe overkill for the upper class suburban neighborhood. Instead, Gabriel had gotten him another pistol, with a silencer, for this particular mission. By the same token, Gabe hadn’t manifested his shotguns, and judging from the broken state of some of the bodies, Reaper had had a chance to flex its proverbial muscles.

In the study, the masked Reaper was calmly facing a frightened but determined middle-aged man with sandy-brown hair and wide hazel eyes. The man, who stood pointing a gun at the strange figure dressed in black, was backed up to the wall behind his desk.

“I don’t know who you are, but—”Dr. Cooper started, his voice only wavering slightly.

“Who we are?” Reaper repeated, his voice made raspy by his white mask. He waved a clawed hand at the bodies around them. “Looks to me like we are the ones who saved you, Dr. William Cooper.”

“How do I know you’re not just more of them, or some other faction, who wants…something from me?”

“Something?” the Soldier echoed. “Something like…your top secret formula?” He raised his pale brows.

“The one that killed dozens of young American soldiers?” Reaper added quietly. “And made weapons of others?”

The doctor blanched but didn’t lower his gun.

“Who…who are you?” he asked quietly.

“Think of us like…guardian angels,” the Soldier replied. He saw Reaper twitch from the corner of his eye, and he was pretty sure Gabe was trying not to laugh behind the mask. “We saved your life. Make no mistake, you would be dead right now.”

The doctor grimaced. He looked pale and stressed. “They wanted me alive, so I started shooting. I’d prefer to die and have my knowledge die with me, then let it be used to make more weapons, and kill more people.”

His head snapped up and his eyes widened as he realized he may have said more than he should of in front of strangers.

“It’s alright, we know all about SEP,” Reaper said. “But you look like you don’t believe me, so let me help. I know the program was run under Assistant Director of the CIA, William Petras. I could tell you the names of all the doctors that worked under you, starting with Dr. Amy Spencer. I can name some of the cute male nurses. There was that buff blonde nurse with the Carolina accent, his name was Alan Jones. God, he was fucking hot. Apparently I have a type.”

Jack resisted the urge to stare at him.

“I could name all the young soldiers who died,” he said, instead. “Soldiers who disappeared from one day to the next. I remember Casey Richards, a young man from Connecticut who had just married his high school sweetheart before he shipped out to basic training. They had a baby boy together. Casey didn’t make it past wave three of the injections. Do you think his wife was ever told anything resembling the truth about his death?”

There was a pause with heavy silence. Dr. Cooper’s jaw tightened. “Mrs. Richards doesn’t know the truth. None of their families ever will.” He slowly lowered the gun. “Only soldiers that were part of the program, or the medical staff under me, would know any of this.”

“And there are only two soldiers left alive, isn’t that right?” Reaper nodded toward the dark holovid screen across the room. “Saw them on TV today. Subject 24 and Subject 76. Are you proud of your creations, Doctor?”

Cooper was silent.

“You don’t need to know our names or why we know so much. You can just call me Soldier. And that’s Reaper,” Jack said, taking a step closer. “We’re not your enemies. We have a vested interest in keeping you alive, for a long time to come.”

Reaper came closer to the doctor as well. “It sounds to me like you regret what you created.”

“The formula was designed to help people. I never meant for it to be used to create weapons of war. I never meant for all those young soldiers to die because…certain people at the top were too impatient to let me perfect it.” Cooper swallowed and glanced at the dark holovid. “They are heroes, and that’s good. But they and the ones that made it long enough to die fighting in this war, they were the strongest and luckiest ones. Those other young men and women who never made it past the injections…” He slid slowly down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. “My boy isn’t much younger than some of them were. They just wanted to serve their country…” His voice died away, and he shook his head, face twisted in genuine grief.

Reaper and Soldier 76 glanced at each other, and the slight nod Reaper gave told Jack that the plan was a go.

“What if you had a chance to do some good? To balance the scales back toward justice?” Soldier 76 said as he approached the man.

Cooper looked up. “How?”

“What if I told you those super soldiers you created still need you? And that you could help them continue to make the world a better place?” the soldier replied.

Slowly, Cooper set the gun down on the floor beside himself. He licked his lips. “It sounds too good to be true.”

“Oh, it won’t be easy, once we get you there,” Reaper replied. “But maybe you can be proud of your work again someday. Plus, the organization they are building can protect you from these assholes.” He kicked none too gently at a nearby body. “It’s the only place where you and your family will be safe. You knew they were coming, didn’t you? That’s why you sent Linda and Benjamin away?”

Cooper started at the name of his wife and son, but then he slowly nodded. “I…had a head’s up. From a friend. I was getting ready to leave, to go and meet them, but these people arrived earlier than expected.”

“Well, then, let’s make sure you meet them.” Soldier held out a gloved hand to the doctor.

It was an offer, a doorway to a better life. Cooper didn’t know that yet, of course, and the man eyed them both cautiously, not yet certain he could trust them. Smart man. But it was the best offer on the table right now, and after a long moment of contemplating, the doctor accepted the hand up.

 

****

 

It was a couple of weeks after the end of the Crisis, and Jack was standing in the beer aisle, frowning at the vast selection of microbrews and trying to decide what Gabriel would like, since the man had a strange affinity for fruity microbrews. Jack couldn’t figure out if Gabriel could actually taste the fruit, or if flavored beer just had more _flavor_ in general for him.

Either way, Jack ended up picking out three different cases, including some kind of fancy blackberry cider. None of it was for him, although he might try one or two bottles. He was avoiding buying alcohol for himself, and sticking to the fruity crap Gabe preferred meant he was less likely to use it for a crutch himself. Besides, it had been a little easier to sleep of late, ever since they had arrived in Fairfax, really. The nightmares that used to plague him as a lone vigilante didn’t visit _quite_ as often.

Jack moved on to other parts of the store. Gabriel had given him a list of things to buy, including produce that he normally preferred to pick out himself. Ever since the war ended and the faces of America’s favorite sons were plastered goddamn everywhere, “Rafael” had reluctantly agreed it best for him to remain mostly inside, except at night when he hunted, or just went out for a late night run when he felt antsy.

The fact was that Reaper’s human face looked too much like Gabriel Reyes, even with the long hair. Jack, at least, had the benefit of looking a bit too old for people to make a connection with Jack Morrison. The scars on his face did a good job of keeping people from staring too long and realizing he actually did look like Jack.

When asked by Fairfax residents, “Jason” explained that his husband was ill.

They’d had a lot of pies delivered to their home by concerned neighbors.

That was why Jack bypassed the candy and sweets aisle and just focused on what was on his shopping list (although he did toss a container of vanilla ice cream into his cart as an afterthought, even though that wasn’t on his list). He roamed the aisles leisurely, not in a big hurry really, because ever since Dr. Cooper had gone to a safehouse—which his wife and son had joined when they returned from Florida—he and Gabriel had little to do while they waited for other events to be set into motion. They still kept a close eye on Cooper, but Gabriel was satisfied with the arrangements the doctor’s ‘friend’ had made.

Fairfax had been in a bit of an uproar since the attack on the Cooper residence. The doctor hadn’t lied—much—about his would-be rescuers. He’d described the masked men who had come to his rescue, and the police were searching for the ‘vigilantes’ to question them.

Whatever. Reaper and Soldier didn’t need to be active right now, and no one, not even Cooper, knew their ‘real’ identities. So Jack was not largely concerned with any of it, even when he saw the local newspaper at the register with the front page headline about the police offering a reward for information about either the masked vigilantes or the mysterious and unidentified dead men that had attacked the doctor.

Of greater interest to Jack, as he emptied his cart onto the moving belt, was the wide array of magazines that featured cover photos of the Strike Team. The media was obsessed (and would continue to be for a while, because the frenzy would be renewed when Overwatch was announced) with the heroes who had ended the war.

Jack wondered if the younger Gabriel was in the same state of stress and rage right now as Jack’s Gabriel had been, with all the interviews and photo shoots that Adawe and Lancaster had _insisted_ the team put up with. He did note that Gabriel looked generally less pissed off in all the photos than he remembered in his time. Back in his day, Ana and Torb had had what they called an ‘Edge Rating’ for the various official photos Gabriel appeared in, ranking the photographs on a scale of One to Hot Topic. It became a running joke for decades to come, as Gabe accepted the friendly ribbing for what it was, and played up his ‘edge’ in many photos, even when he’d really been on the verge of bursting into laughter (and everyone else was in stitches already).

“Ugh, none of these are anywhere near maximum edge,” Jack muttered to himself, peering at the various magazines.

He couldn’t help but pick up what he thought was the sweetest cover he’d ever seen, and one that hadn’t existed in his time: it was a parenting magazine that featured Ana, Gabriel, and Torbjörn. All three of them were in Overwatch blues, with Ana on the left side, sitting cross-legged in a chair with a cup of tea in hand and looking serene despite her sniper rifle leaning against her chair. Gabriel sat in the middle leaning forward over a chessboard (his shotguns were nowhere in sight, but he was wearing a blue military beret and he had been photographed as if he were in deep thought), and Torbjörn standing on the right, with a giant wrench slung over his shoulder. Sitting on the floor in front of each parent, with a mess of toys strewn about, were Fareeha (who is six and holding a toy jet up in the air), Olivia (who is clutching a teddy bear against her chest), and Torbjörn’s son Elias (who is eight and pushing around a toy train on the floor). The headline underneath them read “Parenting in a Time of War and Peace.”

Jack had been collecting mostly newspaper clippings about the war and the end of it, but the post-war magazines were starting to hit and some of the photographs were amazing. He didn’t care about the parenting articles, but he dropped that magazine onto the belt with the rest of his items. He also picked out a few other magazines with photos of the Strike Team that he liked. But he was nearly to the register when one striking cover in particular caught his eye. He felt suddenly like the world had simply stopped around him, including his own breathing.

It was _Time_ magazine, with its iconic red border. He remembered clearly what the _Time_ issue in his day had looked like: the Strike Team, standing regally behind the President and Adawe at the podium when the end of the war had been announced, with “VICTORY!” as the headline.

This headline was _not_ the same as in Jack’s time, and the photograph certainly wasn’t either. The photographer had caught that perfect moment on the runway when blonde Jack and young Gabriel had swung little Olivia between them, catching her in delighted laughter and the two soldiers smiling at each other over her head.

  **THE HEART OF HEROISM**

**Finding hope for the future in the aftermath of tragedy**

There was something so singularly beautiful and iconic about the photograph. A perfect moment in time, with a perfect headline. For most people, the photo would simply be two soldiers and heroes returning victorious from a terrible war. How appropriate, however, for these two particular soldiers to hold the future between them, because that is precisely what the world would expect from them soon enough. How telling for them to be smiling at each other, as if they had not a care in the world, as if they were invincible, as if the future wasn’t a daunting specter waiting to suck them dry of their youth, their dreams, their own personal futures that would all be sacrificed on the altar of world peace.

 _Stop it,_ he admonished himself. _That’s what happened to us. That’s not going to happen to them. Gabe and I will see to it._

“Sir?”

Jack blinked, snapped out of his staring, and he turned to look at the cashier. He realized that she had scanned all the rest of his items and was waiting patiently for him. She was giving him a wistful look, one of understanding. He also realized with a start that his face was wet.

“Pretty, isn’t it? I remember when I was in school and our history book had that picture of the sailor and the nurse kissing at the end of World War I. This one, it kind of reminds me of that. It makes me so happy, you know? It makes the end of the war seem real.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah.”

He grabbed a copy of _Time_ and placed it on the belt. The cashier smiled at him.

Absently he wiped at the tears on his face and almost walked away, before he thought about it and grabbed another copy and placed it on the belt as well.

 

****

Isa (@unstablestyle on Tumblr), one of the amazing BB artists I worked with during this project, did a little extra portrait of Reaper, my babe. I have a special place in my heart for both Reaper-Gabe and Reaper-AI in this piece, so I was super pleased by this additionally little portrait of Reaper:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometime after the Big Bang is over, I will begin posting new chapters. If you like what you read here, please consider subscribing for future updates.


	7. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. The story continues!

Gabriel didn’t remember.

For the amount of time (Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days?) he stood in the blank whiteness, trying to puzzle out where the hell he was and how he had gotten there, he didn’t remember where he’d been before the whiteness. His brain felt as blank as the space around him.

He remembered his name, at least. He remembered that he was Reaper and he remembered that there was a separate entity that coexisted in his body also called the Reaper. When he reached into his mind to feel for the hive mind, he felt its presence, but it remained quiet and almost distant, as if he were separated from it by a great fog. He didn’t think this was normal.

What was he doing before he came to the strange blankness?

He began to walk, for lack of anything else to do, and his booted feet were on something solid even though there was no distinction between the white of the ‘floor’ and the white of the ‘ceiling’ or the white around him. When he held out his hands to the side, he felt nothing around him.

He walked forward a few steps, looked behind himself to see if he left any footprints (no). He held up a gloved hand, realizing with a start he had steel claws. Was that normal? He looked down at himself. Long black leather coat, black pants, armored black boots… he reached up to his face and nearly stabbed himself in the eye with his claws because he’d been expecting resistance for some reason, but even though his hood was drawn up his face was uncovered. That wasn’t normal.

Normally he wore a mask.

But why would he have worn a mask when he was a soldier?

Why would he wear a mask when cooking with his Abuela?

Did he really need a mask when making love to Jack? Or shooting down that bastion unit? Or tossing a Frisbee on the beach with his sisters? Or running the five miles every morning during basic training? Or baking cookies with Fareeha? Or watching  _telenovelas_  with Sombra and Widowmaker? Or laying on a medical table in Moira’s lab?

He did, at least, remember wearing a mask when blasting Soldier 76 in the back with a shotgun. And he  _does_  wear a mask watching tv with Sombra and Amelie. That’s weird.

Confusing, conflicting images of things he thought he remembered happening but not really because they felt like they were happening to someone else, flit through his head. They just appeared to be random memories that may or may not have belonged to him, and they didn’t seem to be in any particular logical order that he was aware of.

“Heya! Hiya!”

The high-pitched voice startled Gabriel. He spun around, the finely-honed instincts of a soldier kicking in despite his confusion, and suddenly there was a shotgun in hand. A flash of blue from the corner of his eye made him snap his head around again, but he didn’t see the source and it was gone.

 “Bloody hell, I forgot!”

 Another flash of blue had him spin around again, shotgun at the ready, but this time he only caught a glimpse of the blur of motion before it was gone again.

 “Damn sorry, love! I forget this place can do a right number on you! How many times have you told me before how this place, and I quote, ‘fucks with your head!’” The voice laughed with a soft delight. “Oiy, whatchya doin’ with that gun, mate?”

 She finally stopped zipping around him, pausing right in front of his shotgun and peering at it as if it were an interesting scientific specimen.

 Gabriel froze. He was now even more hopelessly confused, because he associated her voice and her Cockney accent and her zipping around with the words  _Tracer_  and  _Slipstream_  and  _Oxton_  and  _Lena_  and  _Overwatch_  and  _Recall_ and  _Cadet._  Her slight, skinny frame and the glowing blue chronal accelerator strapped to her chest all seemed right being associated with all of those words. What puzzled him was her face.

 She was  _old._  She looked worn, and there were lines and wrinkles all over her face, crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes, laugh lines or maybe frown lines around her mouth, and her short-cropped hair was pure snow white. She stood with her shoulders somewhat hunched, as if the weight of the world… no the weight of all time, rested on her.

 He had no association in his brain with this old woman and  _Tracer._  And yet she  _sounded_  like Tracer. She zipped around like Tracer. She wore Tracer’s device.

 “…Oxton?” he asked finally.

 “Aye!” She flashed him a smile, not one as brilliant as the ones he remembered from the overly cheerful young Cadet, but a smile nonetheless. “I know you’re pretty confused right now. Just focus on me, love. Focus on what you remember about me.”

 “I… I don’t remember  _you_ , I just remember… Tracer. The young Tracer,” he said finally. “Jack’s annoying little protégé.” He wrinkled his nose.

Things  _were_  becoming clearer in his head. He had a brief vision of the apartment in Fairfax. Right, that’s where he had been before coming here. He’d been in the middle of a pain episode. Soldier 76… no, Jack… had spread a warm heavy blanket over him. Maybe the hive mind had taken Gabriel ‘offline’? He didn’t remember  _ever_  dreaming during that state, though. He just lost time. One minute he was in pain, then he’d wake up tired but relatively normal and the nanites would inform him how much time he’d lost.

Was he dreaming somehow anyway?

Old Tracer’s lips twitched and her dark eyes softened. “Jack. I really miss him. He was always so kind to me.” She frowned at him. “You know, I used to wonder why fate stuck me with you of all people. You’re such a wanker, Gabi. But after spending a few centuries together, you’re not so bad!”

“Did… you just call me Gabi?” Gabriel asked her blankly. He was still trying to process what she’d said. “And… centuries… with  _you_? Fuck, shoot me now.” He looked at the shotgun still in his hand, wondering if maybe he should just do it now and get it over with.

“You try that, mate. A few times. Never works! Those little guys inside you just can’t let go!” Tracer replied cheerfully. “Listen, it’s not so bad. I mean you do eventually let me call you Gabi!”

“Only my sisters and mother called me that,” he growled, a wave of familiar and safe anger coursing through him.

There was a flash of blue and then she was gone. Gabriel experienced a momentary sense of panic that she would just leave him here, in the blankness. His thoughts and memories were starting to clear and make some goddamn sense, and he really would rather be back in Fairfax with Soldier 76, trying to fix their younger selves’ shitty future, than getting trapped in this…  _nothingness._

“Ana called you that too. And well, it takes about a century, but I eventually get the privilege.”

Gabriel spun around to stare at her. “If I’m dreaming, I want to wake up.”

“’Ain’t a dream, love, sorry. I brought you here.” Absently, Tracer rocked back on her heels, peering at him. “Feelin’ less fuzzy, I hope.” She pointed at her head.

“Where is  _here_  and why have you brought me here?” Gabriel growled, taking a menacing step towards her.

The elderly Tracer let out a giggle and zipped around him a few times, much to his incredible irritation. He counted to twenty, attempting to keep his temper in check. She just said she had brought him here; logically, then, he needed her to get back out. Shooting her was probably a bad idea, much as he really wanted to. He dissipated the gun and waited until the blue streak coalesced into the white-haired woman once more.

“I need to have a very serious talk with you, mister,” she said when she stopped in front of him. He blinked down at her stern expression and the finger in his face. “You’re messing with time, and you have no idea what you’re doing!”

“Actually, I have a very good idea what I’m doing, thanks,” he replied, gently pushing her finger down and resisting the urge to break it instead. “I am improving the lives of certain people and steering them away from shitty futures. What else is there to it? I’m aware it’s changing things… that’s kind of the point.”

Tracer let out an exasperated huff and stomped her foot in frustration. “Reaper, actions have consequences! Even the smallest choices can have a big impact! Time is like a pond, you know, and every choice we make has a rippling effect, like a stone being tossed. But you’re practically lobbing huge boulders without any bloody sense of the outcome! You’re a menace!”

Reaper gave a low, deep growl and she visibly took a step back. “There is nothing you can say that is going to convince me to stop what I’m doing, Oxton. So why don’t you send me back to where I was, and kindly fuck off?” He crossed his arms on his chest and glared at her.

Tracer rolled her eyes. She zipped past him but stopped and when he turned around, she had her arms across her chest too, and she sighed at him. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Gabriel Reyes in all the time I’ve been alive, and all the timelines I’ve observed, and all the Gabriels I’ve watched, it’s this: you’re a right stubborn wanker.”

She wasn’t wrong, but he opened his mouth to growl back an insult anyway.

She held up a hand. “I know I can’t stop you from doing what you’re doing. I’m not even going to try. Even if I could send you back to your own time right now, you’d find a way to finish your mission in the past. Because Gabriel Reyes never gives up on a mission once he’s taken it up. It’s admirable, you know. Not to mention bloody scary.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “So what do you want?”

She rocked back on her heels, looking thoughtful. “Look, I haven’t much else to do but observe time.” She zipped to his left in a blur of blue light. He turned to face her. “You might even call me a guardian, of sorts.” She zipped to his left again, and he moved with her.

He should have been annoyed, but he had a vague feeling she couldn’t stop moving even for a second, because even when she was ‘standing’ she wasn’t still, either twitching or shifting her weight or fidgeting in some form. Maybe she couldn’t help it.

“And if there’s one thing I’ve figured out about time, it’s that there are fixed events that happen in almost every timeline,” she continued.

This time when she flitted to his left, he was expecting it. Surprise crossed her face because when she stopped moving, he was already there, quite close to her, red eyes staring into brown. “What kind of fixed events?” he demanded.

Tracer frowned. “Just… fixed events. I shouldn’t really tell you… well ok, look, it’s not  _impossible_  to change some of these events, just really hard. It’s like time resists these changes. And some events you absolutely won’t be able to change, no matter what. Or you shouldn’t be able to. But you… well I guess I can just show you something you changed that shouldn’t have.”

“ _Thought I’d find you out here._ ”

Reaper jerked around at the sound of Jack Morrison’s voice, so unexpected in the white stillness.

“ _You really need to get some sleep, Gabe. We’re heading into a combat zone tomorrow and who the fuck knows when we’re going to get any kind of rest again._ ”

“ _I know that, Jack._ ” There was a pause. “ _I’m just not tired, ok_?  _Super soldier shit._ ”

Reaper followed the sound of his own young undamaged voice. They were definitely coming from a particular direction in the whiteness. And, just like that, the whiteness was gone.

“Bullshit, Reyes,” Jack said, frowning. The young blonde soldier stepped out of the shadow of the narrow alleyway, pausing next to Gabriel and yanking the glowing cigarette out of his mouth. Before the darker man could protest, Jack took a drag.

Gabriel sniffed but didn’t complain. Previously he’d been leaning back against the colorful side of a residential building, his left leg bent at the knee and his foot resting on the wall. But he shifted now, dropping his foot down and standing up a bit straighter. He was wearing his combat fatigues, but his shirt was open to reveal a plain white undershirt that was soaked in sweat. It was a hot and humid late afternoon in Dorado, and the lowering of the sun didn’t seem to be cooling the air much.

Gabriel’s eyes drifted back towards the building across the street that he’d been observing for the past few days. Oh, he’d been helping with the cleanup of course, as had his whole team, but the locals were insistent that the Strike Team not spend all hours of their day working because they had already done so much. Thus, in the late afternoons Gabriel had taken to wondering the town restlessly. His thoughts had spiraled in a thousand different directions as they were wont to do anyway, contemplating how he was going to take the battle straight to Quetzalcoatl based on the intel they’ve been receiving for days, and also contemplating what—or rather, who—currently lived in the building across the way. When his usual patrol was over, he’d come here and stand for a while and observe this place, as if merely standing like a creep on a street corner was going to solve his dilemma.

It was the orphanage. He knew it was badly overloaded. The war had orphaned so many children already, not just from Dorado but from the surrounding rural areas. The churches were relieving the pressure a bit by providing extra beds and spaces for some of the children, but still. There were so many of them. And despite the Strike Team’s efforts, so many families were going to face hardship in the near future, having lost everything in the attack. They weren’t going to be able to take in children anytime soon.

“Fuck me,” he muttered as he snatched his cigarette back from Jack and took another drag. “I don’t know what do, Jack.”

“I’ve never seen you so indecisive,” his partner replied quietly.

“It doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Gabriel replied, sounding faintly angry now. He shifted against the wall. “Why ask me to do this when we all fucking know what’s coming? He knows better than anyone! It’s fucking crazy, is what it is.” He took a final drag, let out the cloud of smoke slowly, and dropped the cigarette, stomping it out with his boot.

With a sigh, Gabriel turned away from Jack’s brilliant blue eyes, because something about the way the blonde was looking at him made him feel guilty. “Fuck it. I can’t do it. Let’s go.”

He’d taken a few steps away when he realized Jack hadn’t moved, and he looked back at his partner curiously. Jack was staring at him and Gabriel looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Go talk to her,” Jack said finally.

“What? No, I don’t want to get her hopes up—”

“Gabriel.” That made him pause, because Jack only called him by his full first name when he wanted Gabe to listen, like  _really_  listen. “Your heart is telling you one thing, and your mind is telling you another.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly right, and I don’t win fucking wars by listening to my stupid feelings. I can’t afford to get distracted, too many lives are on the line,” Gabriel growled. Anger felt safe and familiar, made things clearer for him, and so he tried to call on it now.

“This isn’t about winning a war,” Jack said quietly. “Gabe. You’re fighting your instincts on this. You need to go talk to her. Then you can decide. The other Gabe wouldn’t have told you to do this if he didn’t believe it was for the best. I truly believe that.”

Whatever reservoir of anger Gabriel had been trying to tap into slipped away. His shoulders slumped. “Jack, I was made to fight battles and win wars. My country forged me into a literal fucking weapon. What kind of life can I possibly provide a kid? Especially a kid that’s lost everything?”

The blonde looked at him earnestly, a look of such sincere trust and love, that it shook Gabriel to his core. “I know you’re capable of the kind of love a kid like that needs. And I know in the early days, before we even knew what SEP would truly do to us, you used to talk about wanting to have a family after you were done serving your country. You don’t talk that way anymore, haven’t for years, but… it’s not gone, is it?” He walked up to Gabriel now, reaching out to gently touch the darker man’s face, his fingers soft. “Go talk to her. You’ve wanted to since the other Gabriel told you to.”

All of his defenses, all of his perfectly logical reasons for why this was a bad idea and how he couldn’t possibly do this, died in his throat. He swallowed and looked back at the orphanage.

“ _You know what happens next_ ,” Tracer said.

Reaper snapped out of the moment. He’d felt like he was living it, even though it hadn’t even been  _him_. His heart clenched and for a moment he actually thought he might cry. The blank whiteness around him felt like it was pressing in on him, and he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm his jangled nerves.

“You know what happens, but what you don’t know is that it wasn’t supposed to happen,” Tracer continued. “There’s no other timeline that I’ve discovered yet where Gabriel Reyes, hero of the Omnic Crisis, adopts Olivia Colomar at that young an age.  _You_  made that happen, Reaper. And that makes you a very scary person.”

Reaper bristled. “Is it so bad a thing to contemplate Gabriel might be able to provide for a kid?” he snapped.

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. It’s scary that you made it happen. You’re so ruddy stubborn you even convinced the younger you, and especially the younger Jack Morrison, to do something they weren’t meant to do.” She zipped past him and he spun around to face her once more. “And then, you did the improbable again, when you saved Dr. Cooper’s life. He’s supposed to die, you know.” She zipped to his right. “Reaper, I know what you’re doing. I know what you’re planning. I’ve seen the list. And I think you might able to pull a lot of it off. Not all of it, because some of those names and some of those events  _have_  to happen. But you’re  _you_ , and you don’t take no for an answer! So… there’s a name I need you to take off that list.”

He didn’t turn this time when she zipped to his right again. “What name?” he asked warily. He didn’t like the prospect of failing to save  _anyone_  on that list.

She took a deep breath. “Lena Oxton.”

For what felt like an eternity, neither of them said a word. Reaper contemplated the odd request for a long time.

“You were just an innocent kid who wanted to make the world a better place, and some asshole scientists put you in an experimental jet and fucked you up. No different than me and Jack at that age. Is that really what you want? You want to be bound like this? You want to live forever and watch everyone you care about die?” he said finally.

“No, I don’t want  _any_  of those things,” Tracer said grimly. She zipped again, and this time she came to a stop in front of him, her dark eyes wide and sincere. “What I want, more than anything, is to grow old with Emily and pass on, like a normal person. But… it can’t happen. The slipstream accident  _has_  to happen. I  _have_  to be there, and I have to get lost in time.”

Reaper frowned. “Why?”

She shrugged. “It just does. It’s a fixed point in time. And if you don’t let it happen, if you find some improbable way to save me… you’ll create a time paradox. See, you need me to have the chronal accelerator in your timeline, so you can shoot it and get thrown back in time to do what you are doing. If you prevent that from happening, I don’t honestly know what sort of mess will be made.”

He shook his head. “But what if I prevent me from becoming  _me_? That’s the end goal of all of this anyway. If there’s no Reaper and no Talon for me to join, why the fuck does it matter if you have the chronal accelerator?”

She gave him a sad smile. “Oh, Gabi… I’m sorry, but much like I am bound to always become lost in time, Gabriel Reyes will always become some form of Reaper, some form of something other than human.”

Instantly he tensed up, and this time when she went to zip again, she was stopped by the powerful grip on her arm. Surprise crossed her features, even as he yanked her close.

“ _That… is…_ NOT…  _true,_ ” he snarled in her face. “I will do  _anything_  to prevent that from happening. Do you understand? My younger self will not become some kind of nanite monster. Not this time.”

The old woman opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. She just blinked at him. Her mouth shut. Then finally, slowly, she nodded.

Reaper let go of her arm, but she didn’t move. He let out a deep breath. “I’ll take you off the list. Send me back.”

Tracer took a step back. Something about her stillness, and her silence, and the slow deliberate way she was moving, made his stomach churn with queasiness. It wasn’t right. Not for Tracer.

But then, just like that, the whiteness was gone.

 

 

**WHERE DID YOU GO?**

Gabriel snapped up in bed, heart hammering in his chest, gasping for breath. The Reaper AI shouting in his head, sounding the most panicked he’d ever heard it, was not helping him gain control. His body was mostly dissolved into fine black mist and he was in full on panic mode, his every instinct screaming to mist away.

**WE ATTEMPTED TO BRING YOU BACK ONLINE AND YOU WERE UNRESPONSIVE.**

_Stop yelling!_ Gabriel demanded.  _Just shut up for a second_! He forced his body to reform and swung his legs over. But when he went to stand up his legs just dissolved into mist and he face-planted on the floor with an audible thump, because his upper body was still solid. He was still in panic mode and it was making it impossible to keep his form. He wanted to scream in frustration.

“Gabe?”

_No, no, no, please, don’t come in here, don’t look at me like this…_

The last thing he wanted was for Jack to see him like this. He heard Jack’s footsteps coming down the hall, and out of sheer force of will Gabriel forced his body to reform. He was naked, panting, prone on the floor, and his heart was slamming against his ribs, but goddamn it he at least looked human.

“Gabe!” The moment Jack saw him, he came rushing into the bedroom.

“Don’t touch me!” Gabriel growled. He didn’t really mean to sound so angry about it and he felt a touch guilty when Jack stopped moving in the center of the room, looking awkward. His blue eyes were sincere enough and he looked worried, but he also looked hurt now. “I… I had a bad dream and I’m not feeling in full control of Reaper right now,” he added, to soften the blow.

Jack blanched a little, doubtlessly remembering what it had been like in Romania when Gabriel had lost control of Reaper. But the old fool didn’t run. Instead, he slowly lowered himself to his knees, right where he’d been standing. “Okay. I didn’t know you could dream. I didn’t think you could sleep. But I’m glad you’re back. You were out for a long time.”

“How long?” Gabriel asked warily. Normally Reaper would have told him, but the AI had fallen completely silent ever since the panicked shouting in his head before.

“Ten hours,” Jack replied.

 **We thought we had lost you. We felt your presence but you would not respond, would not come online.**  The hive mind’s voice sounded subdued.

 _I’m fine, Reaper,_  he thought.  _We’ll talk later about what happened._  Privately he was more than a little surprised that Reaper seemed… well, upset, for a lack of a better term. As if the AI had been genuinely worried about him.

Gabriel sat up slowly. He felt more physically stable, now that he wasn’t having a full on panic attack and the AI wasn’t screaming at him. He dragged himself closer to the bed and pressed his back to it, just for the sensation of having something solid supporting him. Jack had shifted to sit cross-legged now, still watching him closely.

“Do you want to talk about it? The dream?” the old soldier said finally.

Gabriel closed his eyes and slowly breathed out a cloud of nanites.  _Do I want to talk about it? Talk about Tracer being completely convinced I am going to fail in my one true mission_? _Talk about Gabriel becoming Reaper_? _Talk about all of this effort, all this careful planning, going to total shit_?

“No,” he said out loud, quietly. Once more that look of pain crossed Jack’s scarred face, and Gabriel sighed. “It’s not about you, Jack. I… woke up in a panic. I don’t want to relive it right now, that’s all.”

“Okay.” Jack slipped his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with it. “But if you do, I’ll listen. I know a thing or two about nightmares.” He swiped across the screen a few times. “While you were out, Jack sent a picture. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

He tossed his phone and Gabriel caught it reflexively. There isn’t much, he thought, that would make him feel better right then. Tracer had managed to get under his skin. Plus he also had no idea how he was going to tell Jack that his precious Lena had to be taken off the save list. At least that event was about twenty years away so he was in no rush to talk about it.

Gabriel looked down at the phone and his breath hitched.

It was a picture of his younger self, passed out in a reclined chair, head thrown back and mouth open. Gabe had a muscular arm wrapped around the girl in the white dress that was curled on his chest, also asleep, her face peaceful and relaxed. She looked so small against him.

It was precisely what Gabriel needed to see. It was a reminder of why he was doing what he was doing; a reminder of Tracer’s insistence that he was stubborn enough to make this work, to do the seemingly improbable. A reminder that he still had a lot of work to do.

The tension drained from his shoulders and he realized he was smiling. Genuinely smiling. He looked up and saw Jack watching him intently, those blue eyes sparkling with a rare little glimpse of joy.

“Thanks, Jack,” Gabriel said quietly.

Jack nodded but remained silent.

They sat in companionable silence for some time afterward.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me almost a month to write this, so here, have 15k words plus smut to make up for my lack of an update... 
> 
> Sidenote, this chapter is a pretty big departure (in style and subject matter) from my previous ones, and I understand it may not be everyone's cup of tea. But not to worry, we'll get back to forward plot movement, and have more about Overwatch and our grumpy old men, in the next chapter. ;)

Given what Olivia Colomar Reyes had been through already in her four short years of life, it was perhaps not surprising that she had a bad day finally. Her timing, however, was unfortunate. She was supposed to spend the day with Ana and her fiancé Sam, their daughter Fareeha, and the rest of the team and their families at Disneyland. Jack and Gabriel were scheduled for a photoshoot and interview.

Not that Jack blamed Olivia; quite the opposite. He was a soldier; he recognized that her sobbing wasn’t a tantrum, but that she was legitimately upset, likely due to PTSD. It broke his heart to see her clinging to her father, desperately begging not to leave his side.

Jack wasn’t surprised when Gabriel quietly asked him to call Elise, their publicist, to reschedule the day. He pushed down the disappointment as he walked away. He’d been looking forward to having rare quiet time with Gabriel after their photoshoot and interview, what with everyone away. But it was selfish to think of that now. Olivia needed her father.

Jack found the living room empty and quiet despite having been full a few moments ago, and in the kitchenette Ana was alone, leaning against the counter and sipping a glass of water.

“I don’t think Olivia is going with you guys today,” Jack told her as he grabbed his phone from the kitchen table. “She’s pretty upset.”

Ana grunted. “I’m sorry to hear that. Fareeha will be disappointed. But it’s understandable. Olivia has gone through a lot recently… losing her family and home, the orphanage, a completely new family, a new country, the nightmares… it’s not surprising she’s overwhelmed. I suppose I’m more surprised that it took this long.”

Jack nodded, but he was already ringing the number for Elise Harris. He was talking to her when Gabriel came into the kitchen, Olivia on his hip.

“Where is everyone else?” Gabe asked Ana.

“I sent them down to the lobby. The kids were getting antsy and making noise in the hallway.”

“Oh. Well you should probably get going, Ana. The kids really want to be there the minute the park opens.”

She gave him a concerned look, glancing at Olivia’s tear-stained face. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. She’s just having a bad day. Kid’s been through a lot.” Gabe sat Olivia down on the counter and reached for a pink and yellow cup nearby that featured mermaids and fish. “She has her first appointment tomorrow with Dr. Berk. My sister swears that’s the best child trauma therapist in LA, so we’ll see.” From the fridge he poured water, stuck a bright green straw into it, and held it out to Olivia, who took the cup and sipped from it delicately.

Ana let out a deep sigh. “Hopefully Dr. Berk can help with the nightmares,” she said. She finished her own glass and set it down in the sink, placing a hand on Gabriel’s arm and squeezing gently. “I’ll stay if you want me to, you know. Sam and Ingrid and the boys can handle all those kids.”

“Nah, you go have fun. Fareeha needs to spend time with her mom. Thanks, Ana,” Gabriel replied, smiling. “Hey, Jack, can I talk to Elise? And would you mind keeping an eye on her for a sec?”

“Of course,” Jack replied. “Hold on, Elise, Commander Reyes wants to talk you personally.” He ignored the small sigh the woman on the other line gave and handed over the phone before he took Gabe’s place at the counter, where Olivia still sat sipping water, swinging her legs.

Absently, Jack took a napkin from nearby, wet it at the sink, and carefully wiped her tear-stained cheeks. Her legs stopped swinging and she sat still for him. She even gave a small giggle when he tickled her nose with a dry edge of the napkin. But he noticed that her green eyes kept drifting back to where Gabriel was pacing in agitation, just outside the kitchen, despite the calm tone of voice he was using with the PR lady. It was like Olivia didn’t want her father out of her sight.

“Jack,” she said, looking back at him at one point and holding up her cup, “ _más agua, por favor_?”

His heart gave a little jump, but Jack just smiled and took her cup. “Of course, sweetie.”

There was a slight intake of breath behind him and that’s when Jack noticed Ana hadn’t left. She was still standing just at the threshold of the kitchen, frowning at him. He turned away from her and handed Olivia her filled cup again, earning a small smile and a “ _Gracias!_ ” from her. She largely understood English from everyone, but she still always replied in Spanish.

Gabriel came back in, cursing under his breath and setting Jack’s phone down.

“Can’t believe this shit,” he was grumbling. “Ana, what are you still doing here? Torb was blowing up Jack’s phone with messages while I was trying to not yell at this woman.”

“He can wait,” Ana replied with a smile. “Never rush a lady. So what’s going on, did Elise move the interview?”

“She can get the photoshoot moved, but apparently the reporter is here all the way from New York and just for today and just for this. But we might be able to do it here instead. Uggh, have I told you guys how much I hate this shit?”

“Like, every day?” Jack said with a laugh.

“And possibly every hour?” Ana added. “Gabi, can I steal Jack for a few minutes?”

Gabriel nodded and went back to Olivia’s side, absently brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. She’d been sipping absently at her straw, but she looked up now at him with an adoring gaze.

Ana grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him out and towards the front door of the suite. “Walk with me,” she said.

 

 

They were down the hall and almost to the elevator before Ana said anything. She turned to him with a frown. “She calls you Jack.”

For a moment the blonde just blinked at her.

“Is that okay with you? Is it okay with Gabriel?” Ana asked, raising her brows.

Jack frowned and pressed the button to call the elevator. “I mean, I don’t see why it wouldn’t be okay. Anyway, she just started doing that, like a few days ago. She wasn’t really calling me anything before that. Well I think she called me _Capitan_ a few times in Dorado, but everyone was referring to me by my rank there. I don’t think she knows what to make of me right now. I’m just like some guy hanging around her dad.”

Ana huffed out a breath. “Jack, my god, you are not ‘just some guy,’ what is wrong with you? She refers to everyone else on the team, and our spouses and partners, as aunts and uncles. Clearly she knows you are different to her. Are you really okay with her calling you by your name?” When he hesitated, she nodded. “I didn’t think so. You had a look when she did it just now. Why haven’t you corrected her? Why hasn’t Gabriel?”

“What should I correct her to?” Jack said. He didn’t really want to have this conversation right then. It wasn’t as if hadn’t hurt when Olivia called him by name, but he also understood she was still trying to figure out her new environment and her new family.

Things were more complicated by other factors than he could admit to Ana right now. She didn’t realize, of course, that things were about to change majorly in all their lives. For a variety of reasons, Jack was trying to keep a wall up between himself and Gabriel, in public. With the Overwatch announcement pending, they didn’t need any rumors of misconduct between them. But that also meant he was somewhat keeping a distance from Olivia.

“I’m not her second dad, Ana,” he said out loud, absently. Elise had also helpfully reminded him of that, recently. She had meant legally, of course.

Ana was staring at him, thunderstruck and momentarily speechless. “Is that what Gabriel told you?”

“No!” Jack frowned. “We haven’t even talked about this. He hasn’t corrected her because he has never been in the room when she’s called me by my name. It’s only been once or twice since then.” He gave a deep sigh. “It’s ok. I’m legally not her father. I’m not married to her father, therefore I don’t appear on the adoption paperwork; her last name is Reyes. I don’t know what to have her call me anyway. I mean I guess I could be her uncle too.”

Ana went silent for a moment as the elevator dropped. “Olivia figured out quickly who Sam and Ingrid were, in relation to myself and Torbjörn. We didn’t tell her what to call them.”

“I’m telling you, she doesn’t know who I am. I mean we aren’t exactly snogging in front of her.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to _snog_ in front of her, what is this word anyway?” She gave an indignant sniff. “My point is that she’s figured out adult relationships just fine on her own. Young children are very perceptive and pick up on nonverbal cues easily. You and Gabriel are almost inseparable. I bet you don’t even notice how often you and Gabi touch or sit close to one another. But she has. She’s also four and doesn’t know what to call another man in the house.”

Jack sighed and remained quiet, at least until Ana glared at him. The elevator was nearly to the first floor.

“Ana… look, Gabe has a lot on his plate right now. General Lancaster has been keeping us busy, and you know how stressed Gabe gets over Adawe’s PR campaign. He isn’t sleeping much, and he’s worried about Olivia, and he’s worried about the future. This isn’t the time to bother him about something as trivial as this.” Ana opened her mouth but he interrupted her. “And yeah, it’s trivial. This is a new family that’s formed and Gabriel and Olivia need to figure out where they stand with each other, and figure out their routines and their solutions to problems. I’ll find my place in their life when Gabe wants me to, and when it’s the right time. That’s just not right now.”

Ana’s lips twisted in a frown. “Is it also not the right time to meet Gabriel’s family? I found out from one of his sisters that you haven’t joined them at all in the past month, they’ve never met you. Jack, what is going on? Are you… having doubts about spending your life with him? It’s okay if you are, but, I am very confused right now. I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Blessedly the elevator doors opened and a scowling Torbjörn stood on the other side.

“Bah! I was about to march up and drag you down, woman! Why am I always waiting for either you or Ingrid?” Torb growled, pointing at Ana.

“I heard that, _min älskling_ ,” Ingrid Lindholm called cheerfully from a few feet away. Her three kids were hopping and bouncing excitedly around her, but she seemed the perfect calm in the storm.

Ana glared at the engineer, but she didn’t respond, instead looking back at Jack. The blonde shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to continue this in front of anyone else.

“You better get going, or you’re going to miss the opening,” Jack said. He gave her a smile. “Ana, go. Have fun. Don’t worry about it. No, I’m not having any doubts. Everything is fine. I promise.”

She didn’t look very convinced, but Fareeha ran up to her just then, excited, and Ana just sighed, shook her head at him, and walked off. Jack waved at Torb and Rein and the kids, smiling as the whole entourage headed out.

Only when the elevator door closed once more did the smile fall off his face and he slumped against the nearest surface, heaving a sigh.

“Everything is fine. It’s going to be fine. We just need to make it through the next couple of weeks,” he said to the empty lift. He pushed the button for his floor and leaned back.

 

 

The reporter from the _Atlantic_ was a pleasant black woman named Marina Klein who had a faint Jersey accent, and she didn’t seem at all put off by having to change their plans and conduct the interviews in the luxurious suite. She’d started by interviewing Jack at the dining table, a recording device between them. Elise was working on her laptop at the kitchen table (within earshot, in case of an inappropriate question), and out in the living room Gabriel was working on something for General Lancaster on his laptop. Olivia was curled up on the floor in a nest of blankets and pillows and the vitally important Arturito (her teddy bear), watching _Moana_ for what was probably the tenth time.

 Jack didn’t mind interviews. This was in sharp contrast to how Gabriel felt about them. He’d admitted quietly to Jack that he was afraid of saying the wrong thing, because he was a man accustomed to speaking his mind. As soon as Elise had received Mrs. Klein’s questions, the publicist had spent a lot of time with Gabriel coaching him on what to say and how to say it. But Elise hounding Gabe constantly only seemed to make him more aggravated. She’d spent almost no time with Jack, because by now she trusted him to hold his own.

 At least it seemed like the reporter’s calm and soothing nature worked on Gabriel when it was his turn to sit in front of her. Jack had taken his place in the living room, working on the laptop. Olivia’s movie was over and she had moved to sit on the floor in front of the small desk where Jack was working, going through a box full of toys that had mostly come from the Reyes family. The child periodically glanced towards the dining room, as if to assure herself Gabriel was still there, but she stayed by Jack’s side regardless.

 She started becoming antsy closer to noon. Not surprising, considering how quiet she’d been all morning. Gabriel was aware, however, and he suggested that they break for lunch.

 “Actually, how about I take all of you to lunch? Although you will have to help me with suggestions, since I’m not familiar with Los Angeles,” Mrs. Klein said. “Then we can keep talking and maybe I can get out of your hair earlier than planned today.”

 “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Elise said cheerfully, coming out of the kitchen suddenly. She was a tall blonde-haired woman, meticulous about her dress and grooming, with not a hair out of place or a nail less than perfectly manicured. She had a huge smile as she came over to the dining table, her heels clicking softly on the tile floor. “I have a few suggestions.” She rattled off a couple of restaurants, none of which Jack recognized.

 But Gabriel made a face and shook his head. “Too Hollywood elite,” he said, rising to his feet. “I have a better idea. I’d suggest a pizza place, but the New Yorker here might be offended.”

 Marina laughed at that. “That’s right, you Californians put weird things like avocado and organic kale on your pizza, don’t you?”

 “Like, totally,” Gabriel replied. The reporter laughed again. “Actually, there’s a nice outdoor café not too far from here, and it’s near a park. Really good sandwiches. And there’s probably kale pizza if you want to try it.”

 “Outdoor, Commander? Are you sure?” Elise said, sounding less than thrilled at the prospect.

 Gabriel gave her a questioning look. “What’s the matter? It’s a nice day out. Besides, trust me when I tell you there’s a coming storm if I don’t let the kid get rid of some of that energy. She’s been too quiet today.”

 The publicist’s brilliant smile dimmed a bit but didn’t reply.

 “An epic storm, followed by an epic nap, yes?” Marina said as she gathered her purse.

 “So you must be a parent, then,” Gabriel observed.

 “Of two. A single mother at that. So I understand perfectly. Four is a difficult age. Your suggestion sounds perfect, although I may skip the kale pizza. Shall we? I can drive.”

 When they reached the café, it became clear to Jack why Elise hadn’t been pleased with the idea of an outdoor sitting area. Typical for Los Angeles, there were paparazzi everywhere, judging from the clicking of cameras and the random people who passed by snapping pictures with cell phones when they recognized who was sitting at the table. Oddly, while the publicist and Jack seemed on edge about it, both Marina and Gabriel seemed perfectly calm. Olivia didn’t seem to notice. She was sitting happily on Gabriel’s lap, sipping a cup of apple juice the server had brought.

 They had ordered their food, and drinks for everyone had arrived, before Marina took out her recorder and placed it on the table in front of her. “Does it bother you, Commander Reyes? The cameras and the paparazzi? Los Angeles is famous for it, I know.”

 “It bothers me, but not for my sake,” Gabriel replied. “Actually, I really wish the press would respect my wishes to keep Olivia off camera. I tried to avoid getting her on camera the day we arrived from Mexico, but that didn’t work out. And I was okay with the _Parenting_ photo shoot. But we can’t really go anywhere without being followed. She doesn’t even really notice it now, at this age, but when she starts school, I’m concerned about her privacy.”

 “You grew up in Los Angeles. Surely you are accustomed to child stars,” Marina pointed out.

 “Sure. I knew some child stars in school. Most of those kids ended up going to private schools where they could be better insulated. But Olivia isn’t a child star. She’s not even the daughter of a Hollywood star. It’s… kind of odd to me that people are so fascinated with us.”

 “You’re not a Hollywood star, but you are a hero, and the world is very interested in you. And your family,” the reporter said.

 “My family didn’t fight the war. They didn’t ask for this scrutiny and lack of privacy. Now, I have politely asked for reporters and paparazzi to leave my parents and sisters alone, and for the most part that has been respected, which I appreciate. But Olivia definitely didn’t ask for any of this. She deserves a normal life and I want to give her one.”

 Marina smiled sympathetically. “Perhaps you will have to put her in a private school.”

 Gabriel chuckled. “Ma’am, I’m a military man. I don’t make that kind of money.”

 The reporter chuckled as well, before she turned to Jack. “What about you, Captain Morrison? Do you mind the cameras?”

 “Not especially,” Jack replied. That was a lie because the constant presence of paparazzi was why he’d had to put a wall between himself and Gabriel, and even himself and Olivia. So yes he did mind these cameras. Reporters and planned photo shoots were one thing. The paparazzi were irritating.

 But of course he never said that aloud, and he didn’t even get a chance to elaborate, because the food arrived just then. Marina turned off the recorder to let everyone eat in peace, and Gabriel spent a good chunk of the meal trying to convince Olivia to eat at least a little of the chicken tenders and fries he’d ordered for her. She nibbled reluctantly at the chicken but didn’t seem too keen.

 “She’s a picky eater? Most four year olds are,” Marina said. “I had a terrible time with my kids at that age. My son especially. Lord help me, I don’t know how that boy didn’t starve.”

 “Kind of,” Gabriel replied. “When I first adopted her, she wasn’t eating much of anything. I don’t know what kind of magic my mother performed, but Olivia eats well now. Thankfully my mother and grandmother made sure I knew how to cook, and that she will eat.”

 Marina raised her brows. “You cook. You’re a single father who took on that role willingly. And you’re a war hero, so you’ve done more for the world in a few years than most people could do in two lifetimes. Tell me again why you are single?”

 Gabriel inclined his head slightly to the side, giving her a curious look. “I never said I was.”

 Elise choked on her iced tea and Jack threw her a dirty look across the table. He was getting a little irritated now, with both Elise and the reporter. Bad enough he had to pretend in public that he and Gabe were just friends, but Ana’s words that morning were rolling around his head more than he cared to admit. And then he had to sit here and silently watch a beautiful single mother flirting rather blatantly with Gabriel. Even worse, everything was suddenly reminding him that things had been so busy that he hadn’t even gotten laid since Mexico.

 But Mrs. Klein didn’t even notice either Elise or Jack’s bad mood all of a sudden, thankfully. Her face had lit up at the prospect of a juicy story. “Commander Reyes, you’ve been holding out on the world. Do tell!”

 “I don’t think that was on your list of questions. You’re going to give my publicist a heart attack,” he replied with a grin, not even glancing at Elise. “Plus I didn’t think the _Atlantic_ was a gossip rag.”  

 The reporter laughed. “That’s fair,” she said.

 Olivia gave an audible sigh just then and squirmed, pushing herself off Gabriel’s lap. He caught her and set her safely down on her feet. “Don’t go far, _princesa._ ”

 She wasn’t. She walked around his chair and directly to Jack, raising her arms to indicate she wanted to be lifted. He didn’t even think about it; he lifted her into his lap and she immediately reached for a French fry on his plate.

 “Olivia,” Gabriel sighed. “That’s rude. You had food right here. She is so fickle. But not around my mother, God forbid! I don’t know what mama does to make her behave.”

 “Grandma powers,” Jack said with a grin, his mood already lifting. “Anyway, it’s okay. I’m not going to eat all of them anyway.” But Olivia didn’t eat the fry herself. She held it up for Jack. “Or, maybe I am. Is that for me? Thank you, Olivia!” He took the fry from her and nibbled on it.

 Gabriel raised his eyes towards the sky, shook his head, and then pushed the smaller plate of food she had barely touched over. “Well maybe she’ll eat this. Or make you eat it, whatever.”

 “Listen, I’m a super soldier. She knows I need a lot of food,” Jack replied with a chuckle. He took a small piece of her chicken and held it out to her. “You feed me, and I’ll feed you, deal?”

 Olivia beamed at him, nodded, and accepted the chicken, chewing happily.

 “She’s close to your team,” Marina observed. She was watching the interaction with a smile. “All of them?”

 “Yes. She’s closest to Captain Morrison and Captain Amari. Ana has a daughter and the girls have become the best of friends. But she’s also friends with the Lindholm children. Having kids close to her age around has helped the transition, I think. And all the kids adore Lieutenant Wilhelm. He’s like a giant teddy bear that they can all climb.”

 Marina nodded. “So your team is like a family,” the reporter said.

 “Well, when you’ve been in life and death situations with people for five years, or ten in the case of Jack and myself, they do kind of become your family,” Gabriel replied. “We survived some pretty crazy things together, slept in close quarters for years, and watched each other’s backs. I’m close to my sisters and parents, but this is different. I am incredibly grateful this past month for all of my team’s support with Olivia.”

 “Found families are wonderful,” the reporter said.

 Gabriel nodded in agreement but now that Olivia was out of his hair for the moment, he was eating finally, which Jack was silently relieved about. Gabe was constantly hungry these days, ever since Romania, and his mood worsened the hungrier he became. He’d told Jack in Mexico that sometimes it was downright painful, like the extra Reaper nanites were feeding on him directly (which, technically, they were). He’d complained more than once to Jack about it, cursing Reaper out for being an asshole. And yet, the nanites _had_ come in handy during some harrowing fights.

 Olivia distracted him from his thoughts, moving to sit sideways and leaning back. Jack shifted his legs to offer her spine better support, and she ended up draped across him with her head hanging upside down over the side of his chair.

 “What are you doing, kid?” Jack asked. Her shirt and hoodie had slipped up a bit, revealing her belly. Absently, Jack pulled her shirt back down, but he accidentally touched her bare skin. Olivia, who was devilishly ticklish, shrieked joyfully, squirming and kicking.

 “Jack, _pare_!” she yelled.

 Jack chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to tickle you.” He sat her up.

 She leaned against his chest giggling from the head rush. Jack was so distracted by her antics that he hadn’t even really noticed what she’d said.

 “Don’t you mean, Tío Jack, honey?” Elise said sweetly from across the table.

  _Oh shit,_ Jack thought.

 Olivia, for her part, gave the blonde woman a look like she was crazy, shaking her head. But that was nothing compared to the ice-cold death stare that Gabriel gave the publicist from his side of the table. Elise opened her mouth and then, wisely, shut it once more and looked down at her salad. The reporter looked at Gabriel and then at Elise curiously.

 “Hey, Ollie, there’s a playground over there. With swings. You want to check it out?” Jack said.

 Olivia’s face lit up and she all but jumped off his lap. “ _Sí, sí_!” She almost took off running for the playground, but stopped suddenly and ran to Gabriel, burying her face against his thigh.

 “Hey, it’s okay, _mjia,_ ” Gabe said, turning away from Elise. He placed a hand on the child’s shiny black hair. “Go play. I’ll be right here. I promise. You’ll be able to see me the whole time. Okay?”

 She looked up when he gently nudged her, and nodded, smiling. Then she turned and looked at Jack, her eyes shining. “Jack, _podemos correr_? ((can we run?))

 “Okay, but you have to hang on tight,” Jack replied, inwardly cringing again. But Elise wasn’t dumb enough to correct her a second time, thank God. He turned away from her and squatted, and she jumped onto his back, her arms wrapping around his neck. He grabbed onto them to keep her secure, and then rose. “You ready, kid?”

 “ _Sí, sí! A correr! Ándale_!”

 Jack gave Gabriel—who looked like he was trying not to laugh now—a look and a sigh.

 “Hey, I didn’t teach her this, you did, Cap,” Gabe said with a grin and a shrug.

 “You’re right, I brought this on myself,” Jack said dramatically. He moved his head forward, and his sunglasses, previously sitting on top of his hair, slid into place on his nose. “I accept this burden.”

 Gabriel and Marina laughed even as Jack took off running across the courtyard towards the nearby park, dodging people at what probably looked like impossible speeds, while Olivia shrieked in delight. There were probably a dozen cameras going off at that point, maybe more, he figured. But he didn’t care. There were photos of Reinhardt with kids climbing him like a tree trunk, and pictures of Ana carrying both Fareeha and Olivia, one on each hip. Jack running around with Olivia was just another cute Strike Team family photo, and would probably end up being today’s viral trend on social media. Elise would no doubt tell them all about it later.

 Assuming she survived the rest of lunch.

 

 

 At just past 1400 hours Marina Klein and Elise stood with Jack by the hotel suite’s door, waiting for Gabriel to come back from Olivia’s room, where he was putting a very tired child down for a nap.

 “Captain Morrison, can I ask about the Soldier Enhancement Program?” the reporter said.

 “Ma’am, there won’t be anything I can tell you beyond what General Lancaster already spoke about in previous interviews. The rest, I’m afraid, is highly classified,” Jack replied.

 “I understand,” she said. “We know so little about this government program. Could you tell me what General Lancaster meant by enhancing servicemen and women? I believe his words were… ‘stronger, faster, and able to take more punishment?’”

 “Exactly as the General described. You saw me running today. I am physically stronger and have more stamina than an average person. And I am more resilient when I get hurt. That’s all I can say,” Jack said.

 “There are civilian videos of fighting in Detroit and Seattle, and other major American cities, of American soldiers performing incredible feats against the omnics. There were rumors about super soldiers for years before the war ended. Now that we know, almost a decade later, that many of these rumors were true… is it safe to say that super soldiers saved the United States? And the world? Where are these heroes?”

 Elise shifted a little uneasily but she didn’t stop the line of questioning.

 Jack shook his head. “Enhanced soldiers fought in every major battle on US soil, it’s true, but thousands of soldiers, law enforcement officials, and first responders were right there with them. It was the same during the rest of the Crisis. Hundreds of thousands of brave men and women lost their lives in this war, fighting for their countries. Despite being enhanced, a great many of the fallen, especially here on US soil, were our fellow soldiers from the program.”

 “So you’re not immortal,” Marina said, raising her dark brows.

 Jack chuckled. “I am not aware of the United States government discovering the secret of immortality, no, ma’am. And if they had, I am fairly certain they wouldn’t waste it on a simple country boy from Indiana.”

 “Or a middle class _chicano_ from LA,” Gabriel added, walking down the hallway just then.

 “I’m not going to get anything else out of you about the Soldier Enhancement Program, am I?” Marina sighed.

 “No, ma’am. Classified means classified, I am afraid.” Gabriel held out a hand. “Thank you for lunch, and for your understanding about having my daughter around.”

 “It was my pleasure, Commander Reyes, and she is a genuine delight. I am glad to have spent the day with all of you,” Marina said, shaking his hand. “Captain Morrison, thank you very much.” She shook Jack’s hand next.

 “I’ll walk you out, Marina,” Elise said, holding the door open for her.

 As soon as the women were gone, Gabriel let out a deep breath. “Jack, we need to talk,” he said, sounding serious.

 “Okay, but it’s going to have to wait,” Jack replied. He held up Gabe’s phone, which he’d been holding while Olivia was being put down for a nap. “We both received an urgent message from Secretary Adawe. I messaged her back to let her know the reporter was still here. She wants to talk to us as soon as we’re alone.”

 “Fuck,” Gabriel muttered, taking his phone back. “Fine, let’s set up the laptop on the dining room table. Good thing Olivia is out like a light for a while.”

 A short while later they both sat in front of Gabriel’s laptop, waiting as a secure connection was established with Secretary Adawe’s office in Geneva. It took a few minutes but finally the elegant Nigerian woman appeared, seated behind a large desk. There were definite bags and lines under her eyes, and she looked exhausted.

 “Commander. Captain,” she said in greeting, setting down a pen and leaning back in her seat.

 “You’re pulling a late night, Secretary,” Gabriel said, raising his brows.

 “I’ve been in meetings for what feels like weeks without end,” she replied. She smiled. “How did your interview go? Did you behave yourself, Gabriel?”

 Jack chuckled while Gabe visibly huffed. “If you must know, I did. We really need to talk about the publicist, though.”

 Gabrielle Adawe made a face. “That will have to wait until the end of the call. I have something I need to discuss with you both first and it is a matter of some urgency.”

 Jack sat up a bit straighter. This is it, he thought. It had to be. They’d been waiting a month for Adawe to approach them about Overwatch. Jack felt Gabe press his thigh against his under the table, and he pressed back. It had been a long month of anticipation and straining to keep the rest of the team from knowing anything was up.

 But the moment was finally here. Secretary Adawe went on to talk about the UN had decided to reverse their initial decision to disband the Overwatch initiative after the war, seeing an opportunity for further good. While she talked, she forwarded a document to their email—they both brought it up on tablets—which detailed much of the structure and planning for the founding of the peace-keeping organization that Overwatch was turning into.

 Gabriel and Jack let her talk, although the blonde noticed Gabriel’s free hand tapping on his own thigh nervously. With his other hand he was scrolling through the information on his tablet. Everything was as the older Gabriel had described. And that, ultimately, was a relief, because this script was familiar. They were ready for it.

 “In three days I will be flying into Los Angeles to conduct some business there. I want to talk to your team in person as well. You should certainly discuss this with them beforehand so it’s not a surprise, and they have some time to consider their options. After that, we will all head to New York for the UN’s final vote. We will also be in Washington DC, as guests of the President, to honor both your team, and General Lancaster’s contributions during the war. There will also be a ceremony to honor fallen US soldiers, at Arlington. I will send you a schedule of all of these events tomorrow. Gabriel, you will have to make arrangements for your daughter’s care.”

 “I understand. Can I assume, Secretary, that after all of this, my team will finally get the rest they deserve?” Gabriel said.

 Adawe nodded. “Yes, you are all overdue for leave, and I apologize for making you wait all this time. General Lancaster wanted to take advantage of your downtime while the UN made some final decisions, and it did give us the opportunity to give the press access to all of you. But after all of this is said and done, your team will have three weeks of leave before I expect you all back in New York. We won’t be announcing the new Overwatch to the public until you get back, otherwise the press will definitely not leave you alone.”

 “Thank you, ma’am. May I ask you about the structure of the organization?” Gabriel’s fingers stopped tapping and he scrolled on his table to a particular part of the document. “Is this set in stone?”

 The Nigerian woman gave him a puzzled look. “You only just received that… do you have a better idea for structuring Overwatch already?”

 Gabriel sat up straighter. Jack had to resist the urge to look at him. They couldn’t give any indication of having discussed this beforehand.

 “Actually, Secretary… I do. Just in the past fifteen minutes of you talking, and in skimming this—”  He held up the tablet. “—I have some thoughts.”

 She raised her brows. She said nothing for a moment before she finally chuckled. “Of course you do. That tactical mind of yours hasn’t steered General Lancaster or myself wrong in ten years. I have long since learned to listen to your instincts. Let’s hear it, Gabriel.” She made a motion for him to continue.

 Again Jack resisted the urge to share a look with him. Instead, the blonde placed a hand on Gabriel’s thigh, under the table, a grounding touch.  This was the moment they’d been preparing for since Romania.

 

 

 They never did have the chance to talk. The call with Adawe went on longer than any of them had anticipated, and by the time it was over, Gabriel rushed off to wake Olivia from her nap, lest she ruin her normal sleep cycle. Jack, tense still over the call with Adawe and still troubled by Ana’s words and the incident with Elise during lunch, decided he needed to burn off energy and frustration. Gabriel had a very moody kid to deal with anyway, and Jack thought Gabe barely even heard him when he said he was going to hit the hotel gym.

 Jack decided on the treadmill, slipping ear buds in and turning on the music app on his phone. With old rock blasting in his ears he set the machine as fast as it could go and let himself get lost in his thoughts.

The past year replayed in his mind, from the strangeness in Romania, to their battles in South America and Mexico, to the orphanage and the way Olivia had instantly accepted Gabriel as her father. And then the last month of sheer frustration, of waiting, while things just _happened_ around him and Jack felt like he was standing still, like he was apart from it all. He’d had such little time alone with Gabriel. Even falling into bed had just meant sleeping and nothing else. He felt no ill will or jealousy for Olivia—he loved her, and he knew she needed lots of attention and affection from her father—or Gabriel’s family, but currently they all seemed to have priority over Jack himself.

Jack supposed he wouldn’t feel so goddamn separated if he didn’t have to pretend in public that they were nothing but friends and coworkers. Ana’s words had aggravated him that morning, but if he was honest, Elise’s reminder two weeks ago that he wasn’t Olivia’s father (legally speaking) had hurt. He’d buried the hurt deep, until Ana had to go and dig it back up. And now he was angry. At who and what, he didn’t know, but he was genuinely upset and unsettled.

He ran. Far longer and faster than any normal human being should, barely feeling tired, not noticing when other hotel guests came and went from the gym, not really aware of their curious stares, or their astonishment at his speed and stamina. Maybe now that Overwatch was finally happening, maybe with the changes Gabriel was trying to convince Adawe to make, maybe things could finally start to normalize.

But who was he kidding? Things were only going to get busier for them. Would they ever really have time to be a family? Maybe it was good that he keep a wall up between himself and Gabriel and Olivia. That he was just ‘Jack’ to her. Maybe that’s just how it needed to be.

“Jack!”

The sharp voice penetrated the music and Jack, startled, jumped off the treadmill, pulling the buds out and turning to stare at Gabriel, who had changed out of his uniform into tight jeans and a hoodie and looking unfairly gorgeous that way. From the tone of voice Jack would guess Gabriel had been trying to get his attention for some time.

Jack was sweaty and breathing hard and his legs felt a bit wobbly. Shit, how long had he been running? He pushed the button to turn the treadmill off.

“Jesus, are you okay? You were like on another planet,” Gabriel said. Olivia was standing next to her father, holding his hand and looking at Jack curiously.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just in a groove, and didn’t hear you over the music,” Jack said after a moment to catch his breath. “What’s up?”

Gabriel frowned at him, some spark of worry crossing his features. But then he reached for the towel laying on Jack’s bag nearby. “I need to run to the store. I messaged Ana and told her the team needed to have a serious talk tonight, and she informed me I better goddamn make dinner then, because no one is going to feel like talking after spending the day in the sun with shrieking children at Disney.”

“Dinner, for everyone?” Jack protested. He accepted the towel when it was held out to him. “We were working today while they fucked off, why do you have to cook for this army?”

Gabriel’s worried look faded and he chuckled. “I kind of said the same thing and she said Sam, Ingrid and the Wilhelms were taking the kids to In N Out tonight. It’ll just be the team. And Olivia, because I don’t want her eating crap food twice in a day.”

“Did you just call In N Out crap food? Who are you and what have you done with Gabriel Reyes?” Jack said, eyes widening as he wiped sweat from his neck.

 “You know what I mean. God, Isabella already pounded proper childhood nutrition into my head,” Gabriel grumbled. Isabella was his eldest sister, and Olivia’s pediatrician. “She doesn’t even like In N Out anyway. I don’t think she’s actually my kid. I’ve been lied to.” He looked down at Olivia, who looked back up at him with her large, innocent eyes. He sighed and turned back to the blonde. “Anyway, I’m going to the store. Uhh… look, you’re not going to run yourself to death while I’m gone, are you?”

 “No,” Jack said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll head up to take a shower and get ready for tonight. Hey, pick up something sweet, will you? And some beer? Like actual beer.”

 “Fine.” Gabriel gently pulled Olivia towards the door, but he paused just before pushing his way out. “Hey, you and I still need to talk. Even if it means no sleep tonight, after we’re done with the team. I mean it.”

 “Yes, sir,” Jack chirped, giving him a jaunty salute.

 Gabriel shook his head and walked out, Olivia skipping along beside him. She asked him a question, but his reply was swallowed up by the door closing. Jack let out a deep sigh and set about stretching to cool his muscles off.

 A while later he stood in hot steam, letting water pour over him and trying to allow the tension to wash away. _Positive thoughts, Jack. It’s going to be alright. I mean the old guys made it work somehow, at least for a while. We can do better._

So he pushed aside all the negativity of late, and thought about the good times they’d already had. The stolen moments of passion during SEP and the war, the strange but still good days spent in the house in Romania. The look of wonder on Gabriel’s face after he came out of the orphanage after his first real interaction with Olivia. The passionate kiss Gabriel had given him when they stood in the silenced Quetzalcoatl’s chamber, both of them covered in blood and oil and sweat.

His cock swelled and he took himself in hand, slowly stroking himself as he thought about Gabriel. Looking hot as fuck in just tight jeans and a tshirt and a hoodie, the asshole. Delicious in his Overwatch uniform, posing for photo shoots with the air of a man who knew he looked good. Photographers fucking loved him, and the _Parenting_ photographer had joked that if Gabriel ever wanted to change careers, he knew some modeling agencies who would love to have him.

Christ, Gabe as a model. Jack let out a moan, stroking harder and faster. He always looked so goddamn good, in anything he wore, and even better naked. Even with all those scars all over his body from the war. Especially because of all those scars. Jack loved those scars, liked to kiss and lick them and remember that he’d been there, right beside Gabe, when those marks of battle had been obtained. When Gabriel would charge fearlessly across the battlefield, taking the fight directly at the omnics, trusting Jack to cover him with his longer range rifle from behind, trusting in Jack to keep him alive long enough to get close and finish the job. The simple days, when things made sense because it was just them against the world. When battle and survival made them both horny and they snuck away from the rest of the team to fuck, fists in their mouths to stifle cries of passion.

“Ahh—Gabe!” Jack cried out, his cock twitching and pulsing in his hand. He leaned his shoulder against the wall for support as he breathlessly watched his come wash down the drain. When the immediate glow faded, he realized that he was still frustrated. This little bit of self-care had taken the edge off, certainly, but what he really wanted—what he really needed—was his partner.

Jack shifted to lean his back against the cold tile. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. Christ, he needed to get laid.

 

 

Jack and Ana had just finished washing the dishes and pots and pans after dinner when there was a knock at the door. Torbjörn and Reinhardt were lounging at the table still, talking and laughing loudly. Gabriel was in the living room with Olivia, finding a movie for her to watch, and he ignored the intrusion entirely. It was Reinhardt who stood up.

“Oh, hello, Miss Elise!” the large German man said enthusiastically in greeting.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Wilhelm!” Elise said as she hurried past him. She carried a tablet in her hand, and her eyes shone with joy and her smile seemed as brilliant as ever. She clearly had some kind of good news to share.

“Shit,” Jack said. Ana gave him a questioning look. He dried the last dish, spread the towel out on the countertop, and turned back to her. “I’m making some popcorn. You want some popcorn?”

She opened her mouth to point out they had literally just finished eating an amazing meal made by Gabriel, but she closed it without saying a word and instead looked towards the living room. As if she sensed the gathering storm clouds.

“I’m sorry to bother you all at dinnertime, Commander Reyes, but I couldn’t wait to show you the latest polls!” Elise said cheerfully. If she noticed the scowl he threw at her over his daughter’s head, her smile didn’t dim in the least. Since Gabriel didn’t otherwise respond, the petite blonde moved over towards the dining table, where Reinhardt, Ana, and Jack had all sat down again. “How was Disneyland?”

“It was so fun!” Reinhardt exclaimed happily. “The children had a great time!”

On the holovid, _Mulan_ had started and Olivia was already entranced, and suddenly Gabriel was standing there, frowning at the publicist, one arm resting on the back of an empty dining chair. Elise turned towards him, and for the first time her delight dimmed a little.

"Is something the matter, Commander Reyes?” she finally said.

 Gabriel said nothing immediately and Jack could tell he was trying to keep his temper in check. Jack leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his beer.

 “I wasn’t going to talk to you until morning, and I am really not in the mood right now. So I suggest you walk away and have a good night,” Gabe said finally, his voice soft.

Gabriel rarely yelled when he was angry. In fact, he usually became quieter, more intense, just like he was now. Jack had seen many an SEP recruit shrink under those ice-cold dark eyes, and he wasn’t surprised to see Elise’s shoulders drop as she realized there was indeed something quite wrong.

“Commander, if this is about earlier today, at lunch, we can certainly discuss it—” she started, speaking as calmly as possible.

“It is,” he interrupted. “Are you sure you want to discuss this now? Here?”

“I would prefer to clear the air sooner rather than later,” she replied.

Gabriel shrugged. “Alright, then. To be perfectly clear, Miss Harris, you way overstepped your bounds today. I have never given you the authority to correct my child. And you sure as hell don’t have the right to dictate what she calls _anyone,_ least of all my partner. You don’t get to decide that.”

“Oh,” Ana said quietly under her breath, looking at Jack. He ignored her.

“Commander, what you say is absolutely true, and I apologize for stepping over that boundary. But it is my job to make sure your image, and that of your team, is protected from public scrutiny. It is inappropriate for your daughter to publicly call Captain Morrison by anything other than his rank, or at the very least, something like an honorary uncle, just like the rest of your team—”

“ _He’s not her uncle,_ ” Gabriel growled intensely. A pleasant shiver ran down Jack’s spine, because he sounded like Reaper in that moment.

“He’s not her father either!” Elise snapped back. There was a momentary stunned silence and the blonde woman’s face flushed as she realized her error.

Ana’s dark eyes were huge and she looked at Jack again. He wasn’t sure what his own face said, but he knew he didn’t like the feeling in the pit of her stomach at those words. Reinhardt was shrunken down in his chair—he hated when people argued. Torbjörn was scowling.

And then there was Olivia, who suddenly appeared as if she had teleported to Jack’s side, her green eyes wide. She gave a little whimper, clearly frightened by the adults arguing. Jack set his beer down and picked her up without a second thought, letting her bury her face against his chest as he whispered in her ear that everything would be alright. He stood up and walked back towards the living room, feeling her grip at his tshirt tightly.

“What the _hell_ did you just say?” Gabriel demanded. His face had darkened like a thunder cloud and he was practically grinding his teeth now.

“I mean, not legally. And not publicly,” Elise said quickly. “He can’t be. Do you understand the scandal that could erupt if people knew that you and Captain Morrison were more than just… than just… war buddies?”

“What the hell is a war buddy?” Torbjörn mused.

“It’s what the kids call the gays these days,” Gabriel replied without missing a beat.

Despite the tension, the team members at the table snickered, although to Ana’s credit she tried to hide it behind her hand. Jack’s lips twitched in amusement, but he was busy whispering reassurances in Olivia’s ears. She was still tense, her wide green eyes on Gabriel.

Elise ignored the mockery. “I was hired by Secretary Adawe to make sure the Strike Team’s public image remains squeaky clean. The entire world is watching all of you right now, looking up to you as heroes, and there can’t be any hint of impropriety. I have done my absolute best to protect all of you, even with you being a difficult client.”

“A difficult client?” Now Gabriel sounded incredulous. He was _definitely_ grinding his teeth. He looked up at the ceiling and Jack imagined he was probably counting, to calm himself. “You’ve never seen me difficult, Miss Harris, of that I assure you. I have been more than patient with your constant harping at me over interviews. You were doing your job and I get that. But if the price of avoiding scandal is letting other people define my child’s relationship with my partner, well… to hell with that. You’re fired.”

Elise gawked at him for a long moment, her face pale. “With all due respect, Commander Reyes, I don’t work for you. I work for Secretary Adawe,” she said finally, calmly.

“Then it’s a good thing I spoke to her this afternoon. Your firm will be notified in the morning that we are letting you go,” Gabriel replied just as calmly. “It was late in Geneva when we spoke. But you may consider it official as of right now. Get out.”

The publicist stood there for a moment longer, but then she nodded once, tight-lipped, and showed herself to the door without another word.

There was several moments of silence after she left, before Ana finally let out a deep breath. “You did the right thing, Gabriel,” she said. She smiled at Jack across the room.

Jack gave her a weak smile in return before he walked over to the couch. Olivia was calmer already, now that the tension seemed to have dissipated, and she accepted when he set her down on the plush sofa.

“Bah! Ingrid would have kicked that woman’s ass, if she’d been telling us how to raise our kids,” Torbjörn muttered, waving dismissively. “Good riddance. Reyes, can we get on with whatever it is you want? I’m sunburned and tired and I’ve got a date with me pillow.”

“Well your pillow is going to have to wait a little longer because we have a lot to talk about and it’s important,” Gabriel replied. Visibly calmer and less tense, he came over to the sofa and squatted in front of Olivia.

Jack walked away, giving them privacy, returning to the table and to his beer. But he couldn’t help his eyes drifting back towards the living room, where Gabriel had his forehead to Olivia’s, whispering softly. Whatever he said, a few moments later, the little girl giggled, and Gabriel dropped a tender kiss on her head before he stood up.

 _Fucking Christ,_ Jack thought. It was good he was sitting, because he was sure he’d go weak at the sight. Not just how good Gabriel looked right then, but just the tender way he handled Olivia. And he had literally just fired someone over Jack, without hesitation.

Jack’s heart swelled in his chest. God fucking dammit, he loved this man, and he also loved this child.

“You’re a gay mess, Morrison,” Ana said quietly from beside him. Damn her and her very observant nature. But at least she was smiling.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed. “I am.”

 

 

Hours later, Jack thought he might scream. His good feelings had faded into frustration. It was late and he couldn’t believe they were _still talking._

To be fair Ana had brought up a bunch of valid concerns about this new Overwatch and all their roles, and she and Gabriel had been doing most of the talking. Jack had spoken at length about the Strike-Commander position—which was detailed in Adawe’s proposal—and how he didn’t think any one person could conceivably take that position on. Ana had agreed.

“It’s too much. Frankly, all of this is too much,” she had said, scowling unhappily. “Haven’t we done enough?”

It was a valid question that Gabriel didn’t really have an answer for, other than, “There aren’t many people I trust to put the world back together… in fact they are all sitting right here. I would much rather retire to a civilian life, but… I have to think about Olivia’s future and what her world is going to look like.”

“Olivia’s… and Fareeha’s,” Ana had replied, sounding resigned.

Jack was exhausted. Not to mention cranky. They had just paused for Gabriel to check on Olivia in her room (she’d been put to bed hours ago) and during that time Ana and Torbjörn and Reinhardt had discussed the matter at hand. Jack didn’t offer any input at this point. He was pushing peanuts around a small bowl in front of him with a finger, his thoughts scattered. Maybe Ana sensed he wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore because she didn’t ask him to participate.

Just then Gabriel walked into the kitchen, yawning and reaching for another beer from the fridge, as well as the container of peanuts from the nearby cabinet. Hungry. Always hungry.

Jack watched him from the dining table. He was hungry too, but not for food. Gabriel had taken off his hoodie at some point, and his black tshirt was straining to contain his muscular arms and chest. His back was turned to the table, so Jack couldn’t help his eyes focusing on those perfect ass and thighs. Those jeans looked good on him. Jack licked his lips…

He mentally shook himself out of his thoughts. _Christ, Jack, it’s pathetic how desperate you are._

Ana made a noise, and Jack’s eyes drifted over to her. She was just then taking a sip of tea, but she was watching him, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. He felt his face get warm and he suddenly took great interest in his phone. Because he’d put it on silent earlier, he’d missed a text message earlier.

It was from the other Jack. Telling him that his Gabriel had really liked the photo he’d sent a day or so ago, the one of Olivia sleeping on Gabe.

 _I think I’m going to have a lot more cute pictures. They are really photogenic,_ Jack typed back, fingers rushing over the screen with practiced ease. He was grateful for the distraction. But it was very late… no very early in Fairfax and he hoped he wasn’t waking Jack up. But there was a response almost immediately.

 _You’re still up_? The older Jack replied.

Jack looked up, saw that Ana and Gabriel were engaged again, picking up right where they had left off before.

“Hey, umm, I’ll be back,” Jack said, jumping to his feet. He waved his phone in the air. “My sister is up and wants to talk.”

Gabriel gave him a curious look and Jack just smiled at him in response. Gabe returned the smile, which caused the blonde’s heart to skip a beat. But then Gabe was back to focusing on Ana. When Gabe argued, even when he wasn’t angry, his face took on this intensity and concentration and his eyes were fierce. Jack had seen soldiers at SEP cower before Reyes.

But that smoldering look had always just made Jack weak in the knees.

 _Oh my fucking god, somebody send help, I need to get laid,_ Jack thought as he retreated to the bedroom.

 _Can you talk_? he typed into his phone. He was already crossing through the master bedroom, to the French doors that lead out to a balcony. When the phone rang, he was outside, quietly shutting the glass door behind himself and settling on one of the comfortable chairs, overlooking a twinkling Los Angeles. It was just past 0100 hours and the night was warm and still.

“What’s wrong?” his own voice, only deeper and gruffer, said as soon as he answered. “Is everything alright?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jack replied, too quickly. Privately he wondered what had possessed him to want to talk to his older self. He wasn’t completely over his disappointment and anger, really, at the old man. But that all seemed so far away just then, in light of his present frustrations. “I just… I don’t know. I guess I needed someone to talk to. And you were up. _Why_ are you up?”

Old Jack grunted in response. “I don’t sleep much.” There was a soft whining sound in the background, followed by a sharp yap. “Yeah yeah yeah, if you’re hungry go bother your favorite. You know he’s up _,_ ” the older man grumbled.

Jack laughed. “Is that Bunny?”

“Yeah. Her last day here. Gabe is going to be pissy after she leaves, just like last time. Especially since _…_ ” His voice faded and he cleared his throat.

“Especially since…?” Jack prompted.

“Nothing. He just had a bad pain day recently, so he’s not in the best of moods. Don’t tell him, but Bunny didn’t actually need sitting. I asked her owner if we could take her for a couple of days. All our neighbors think Raphael is chronically ill anyway, so they understood without me having to explain much _._ ”

Jack was struck silent. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he processed that. “Jack, that’s… wow. That was really kind of you.”

There was an embarrassed cough from the other end of the line. “You know what a pain he can be when he’s moody. It’s just easier if he’s happier. Or at least… less grumpy. Anyway, what did you want to talk about?”

Jack picked absently at invisible lint on his pants, quiet for a long moment. Old Jack didn’t push him, letting the silence linger over the line. Finally, the blonde sighed. “How are you doing anyway? You know, with the alcohol…”

Now it was the old soldier’s turn to be quiet for a moment. “I’m trying to do better, Jack. I at least haven’t felt like I needed it as much. I mean, I’m not sleeping much, but that’s pretty normal. I’ve had less nightmares when I do, though. And I haven’t bought any alcohol. Well, not for myself anyway. I’ve had a few of his shit at times, to take the edge off, but… I definitely don’t crave them _._ ”

Jack snorted. “You mean those godawful fruity microbrews Gabe likes? Oh my god, those will make anyone go sober. How does a war hero and a tough motherfucker like that get a taste for that shit?”

“You think that’s bad, just imagine a scary international terrorist that drinks that stuff _._ ”

They both burst into laughter. Some of the tension drained from Jack’s shoulders. “I’m sorry to bug you at like… 0400,” he said after their mirth quieted.

“It’s not a bother. But what are you doing up on your end?”

“Gabe is having the talk with the rest of the team. I mean we’ve been talking about it for hours. I just needed a break from it. He and Ana are going at it pretty hard. I swear she’s just being argumentative.”

 "Hmm, no, she has her reasons for being reluctant to get more involved with Overwatch _._ ” There was a shuffling sound, like old Jack was shifting. “I’m not surprised she has doubts. But give her time. What’s really bothering you, because it’s not that.”

 Jack felt a prickle of irritation, but then he rolled his eyes at himself. Of _course_ the other Jack would know he was just stalling. “There’s… just… I don’t know. I’m… there’s a lot going on but there isn’t a lot going on, if that makes sense.”

There was only a grunt from the other end of the line. Finally, old Jack sighed. “Right, I was always terrible at transitions. I hate being unsettled. Stuck in Limbo while waiting for other people to act. Not having any real direction or event to act upon. Not feeling useful. It’s why I left Bloomington as soon as I was eighteen. I felt adrift and useless my whole life. Enlisting gave me purpose. The war gave me purpose. Gabe pointed me at shit and I killed it, and I had a reason to exist. And once Overwatch was established, I had lots of purpose, an ideal to strive for, and him to protect. But yeah, that transitional period to get there was awful. Jack, it’s going to be okay. You’ll get there.”

Jack slowly let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. A deep sense of relief flowed through him, the invisible weight lifting off his chest. Somehow, hearing the words out loud, having his feelings articulated so perfectly, was almost liberating from the emotion that had been tightening like a thorny vine around his chest for days… weeks really.

“It’s… yes. It’s absolutely all of that. It’s waiting in anticipation for this Overwatch thing to finally happen. It’s the not really having a true home right now. I feel so unsettled. But it’s also… it’s about Gabe and Olivia. Jack, I don’t know where I fit into their lives. I have to pretend in public that Gabe and I aren’t anything but friends, and that means I have to pretend that Olivia doesn’t mean the goddamn world to me. It. Fucking. Sucks.”

Old Jack hummed thoughtfully. “That’s uncharted territory for me. At least the part with the kid. That must be really hard. But, Jack, I always had to pretend in public. I always had to grin and bear it when women flirted with me, or reporters asked about my marital status, or anyone flirted with him.” He hesitated; then continued, apparently making up his mind. “I made the decision a few years after Overwatch’s founding to propose to him. I felt a lot better afterwards, even though it changed nothing on the outside. But it meant the world to me to come home to my husband every night. It meant the world to me that he knew I was dedicated to him, no matter what I had to say and do in front of the cameras. The point is, Jack… having to pretend is probably not going to go away. You have to work around it.”

Jack grumbled under his breath. “I don’t like it. But anyway, I don’t know how we explain that to a four year old kid.”

“That… is something you and Gabe have to work out.”

Jack threw his head back, groaning in frustration, but went quiet as he contemplated the many issues at hand. Christ, why couldn’t anything be easy.

“There’s something else?” old Jack asked after a few minutes of silence over the line.

Jack squirmed, his foot tapping nervously on the ground.

“Jack?”

Jack had so much pent up frustration, even that voice, his own but much more grizzled and rough, was doing things to him. His cock was already straining against his pants.

"I’m horny!” he blurted, then slapped a hand over his mouth, because he couldn’t believe he had just let that out. “I mean, I’m frustrated! You know!”

He didn’t get laughed at, much to his surprise. There was a momentary silence. “Did you two fight? Or just too busy?” the older man asked finally.

“No, no!” Jack exclaimed. “ _Busy._  Gabe gets back to the hotel late almost every day because he’s usually hanging out with his family, and he’s tired, and he just wants to sleep—”

“Okay, stop. Wait. One thing at a time. Why aren’t you going with him to be with his family?”

“It was my idea. I told him to wait on introducing me. Like I just want Olivia to get used to her new family, you know? I’m sure she’s pretty overwhelmed and everything. I just thought it would be better if I wasn’t a third wheel right now.”

Old Jack chuckled. “Jack, you don’t need to be nervous about meeting the Reyes family. I know it sounds overwhelming but it’s going to be just fine. They are genuinely warm and kind and welcoming, and spoiler alert, they are going to really like you. But I understand, I was really nervous my first time after the war, too _._ ”

Jack made an irritated sound. “For fuck’s sake, I hate talking to myself! I can’t hide anything!” His shoulders slumped and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Jack, I am freaking out.”

“You need to relax. When Gabe gets busy and overwhelmed, his thoughts are scattered in a thousand directions, he kind of forgets about the little things. This has an easy solution. Go take what you want. Remind him that you’re there and that you also need him. I know you know what a hard no from him is, so as long as you don’t get that from him, then just fucking take him. He needs it too. And after you’ve gotten what you need, talk everything out with him.”

Jack let out a deep breath. “I mean… just like that? Just… you know, do it?”

“Yup. Just like that _._ ” There was a pause. “I don’t remember ever being this uncertain about this sort of thing _._ ”

“I’m not usually. I just… uggh, okay,” Jack said, nodding firmly. He stood up, deeply sucked in air and breathed it back out. “Okay. Just go take him. Okay! I’m gonna!”

Old Jack chuckled. “Well, then. Go get ‘em, tiger _._ ”

“I am!” Jack exclaimed, already marching towards the door. But he stopped suddenly with his hand on the doorknob. “Umm… hey, Jack? I… thanks, okay? I really appreciate you talking to me. I wasn’t really very nice to you in Romania, at least not after the amazingly hot threesome we had. I’m not sure I deserve your help…”

“I mean, if we’re keeping score, I fucked your boyfriend and then I put a gun to your head and threatened to erase us both from the timeline. I think I owe you more here _._ ” He could almost hear old Jack shrug across the phone line. “Look, don’t worry about that. It’s not like you said anything untrue _._ ” The old soldier cleared his throat once more. “It’s in both of our interests for me to be here for you. I don’t want you to repeat the same shitty mistakes I made. And one of those mistakes was not talking to Gabe enough about how I feel or about my needs. Another was letting Overwatch decide for us how our relationship went. You need to tread carefully there. I’m just helping you course correct, which is kind of the point of all of this. So you can always call me or text me, Jack.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks. And hey…if you need someone to talk to, you can call or text me too, you know?”

He received a grunt in response. “Goodbye, Jack _._ ”

 

 

When Jack walked through the suite towards the living room, everything was quiet, and he bumped into Gabriel in the hallway, just coming out of Olivia’s room. Jack gave him a questioning look.

“She’s sleeping pretty hard. This might be the first time she sleeps the whole night through,” Gabe murmured. He motioned for Jack to follow him back to the master bedroom.

“Torb convinced Ana to let everyone sleep on it before we talk again,” Gabriel explained as Jack shut the bedroom door behind them. “I didn’t expect this much resistance from Ana. But I get it. Of course I want her to join us, but she needs to think about her family first.”

Jack leaned back against the closed door, nodding even though Gabe had his back to him, was now over by the king-size bed and was pulling off his tshirt and tossing it aside. Jack’s eyes widened at the delightful sight of that beautiful bronze skin and powerful shoulders and back, marked with scars and bullet wounds and permanent reminders of the war they had just finished fighting. The blonde stared, unblinking, his dick already hardening in his pants, just from the view of a shirtless Gabriel.  

“You want my opinion,” Gabe continued, unaware. His back was still turned, his fingers undoing his belt and his jeans slowly sliding down his powerful thighs. “I think she wants me to talk her out of this. I don’t think she wants to talk to Sam about it. But I can’t make that decision for her, you know?” He turned around finally as he stepped out of his jeans.

Jack’s brain was official broken. _Jesus Christ on a Cracker,_ he thought, blue eyes wide and round as a saucer. He would have thought Gabe was teasing him with that striptease just now, but that gorgeous jackass was looking at him now with a genuinely questioning look. He legitimately wasn’t thinking about sex.

“Jack?” he asked. He didn’t remain oblivious for more than a few seconds. Not with Jack’s stare and dilated pupils, or the obvious bulge from his cock straining against his fly. “Well… someone has something else on their mind besides Overwatch, I see.”

Jack grunted. “Maybe the thought of all that power makes me horny,” he replied. He finally moved, walked over to the bed, and placed his hands on Gabriel’s warm chest. None too gently, he pushed the man down onto the bed. “Or maybe I’m just fucking pissy because I haven’t had dick in weeks.”

Gabriel watched with a perfectly clear and unreadable expression as Jack straddled him around the waist. His body betrayed him, however; when Jack rubbed his ass against Gabe’s cock, he felt the corresponding twitch of interest. Jack smirked, triumphant, but just then Gabriel yawned and draped an arm across his eyes.

“Jack, baby, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your enthusiasm. But it’s pretty late, you know.”

The blonde went perfectly still, and for just a moment he almost took him at his word, his stomach doing a weird flip but his brain already backpedaling because no means no and he would always respect that. But then Gabriel moved his arm, and Jack saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Saw that his pupils were already dilated, signaling his interest. Felt another twitch, this one more insistent, from the slowly hardening cock beneath him.

That wasn’t a hard no. That wasn’t even a maybe. It was a game.

Jack smiled indulgently and slid off of him. Gabe’s brow furrowed just a bit, but Jack just turned away with a shrug. “It’s okay, Gabe. I know it’s really late and you’ve got another busy day tomorrow. Don’t you worry, I can take care of business all on my own.” He disappeared into the bathroom, biting his lip to keep from laughing when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He let Gabe mull that over for a minute.

Then he came out of the bathroom, his face set with determination and a bottle of lube in one hand. He was also completely naked, cock fully erect.

Gabriel had lifted himself up on his elbows, brow furrowed deeply in consternation, but when he saw Jack return, his expression cleared, his relief almost palpable. He raised a dark brow. “You’re going to take care of business yourself, are you?”

“Yup.” Jack went to the other side of the bed, climbed on, settling on his knees near Gabe but not quite touching him. The blonde faced the footrest of the bed, and he absently wrapped his hand around his own cock, and slid up towards the tip, slowly. “Sometimes a man just has to take care of himself, you know? I know you’re exhausted. It’s okay, that’s what toys are made for. Like sex dolls.” He popped open the bottle of lube and slicked the fingers of his left hand. His right hand continued the slow stroking of his cock.

Gabriel grunted. “You got a sex doll I don’t know about hidden up that fine ass of yours, Jackie?”

“Nah, babe. You’re my sex doll tonight.” Jack smiled. “You just lie there, silent and still. I’ll do all the work.” He raised his pale brows. “Color?”

Gabe gaped at him, blinking slowly. He hadn’t quite expected the game to go this way, obviously. “G-green,” he stuttered, swallowing. His dark cheeks flushed, barely noticeable, but delightful to Jack nonetheless.

Satisfied, Jack nodded. “Good,” he murmured. He stroked his cock faster with his right hand, his left hand spreading the lubricant around his fingers a bit further, warming it up. Gabriel obediently stayed still, except for his eyes, which roamed hungrily over Jack now.

Jack turned away from him, facing forward, letting out a soft moan at his continued stroking. After a few moments longer, he stopped and leaned forward, pressing his face to the pillow he’d laid there before, and lifting his ass into the air, giving Gabriel a perfect view. With his right hand he spread himself open, waiting a moment to give Gabe time to stare. But then he slipped the first of his slicked fingers inside.

Gabriel made a soft sound, like a gasp, but Jack didn’t object. In fact, he was already a bit too busy, already pretty deep into the scene, fingering himself open, stretching gently and sliding in a second finger as soon as he could handle it. And then a third. His hips moved of their own accord, trying desperately now to fuck himself on his own fingers, seeking relief he was never really going to find this way. He made noise. Not overly loud, but loud enough to be clearly heard by his silent partner.

“Gabe,” he moaned. “That’s right, baby, finger fuck me. Deeper!” His cock was already leaking onto the sheets and he ground into the bed, gasping, seeking even the smallest form of relief. “Gabe, I need your cock! Please!” He paused to slip a fourth finger in and continued, now practically fisting himself while his lover watched silently. He put on a good show, writhing and grinding and moaning, calling out for Gabriel, panting with each thrust.

Frustration finally beat out the need to continue torturing Gabriel. He gave a growl, slid his hand out of himself, and turned to look at the result. He was satisfied: Gabe hadn’t moved, his arms still crossed on his chest, but his cock was painfully hard, ruddy head shiny with pre-come. His muscular chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his eyes had a bit of a glazed look.

A warm glee filled Jack’s chest, but outwardly he maintained his cool demeanor. He held the bottle of lube over Gabe’s cock and squeezed. The cold slick seemed to bring Gabriel out of his daze. He twitched, blinked, looked at Jack, but said nothing as Jack spread the lubricant over that beautiful girth. Satisfied, Jack dropped the bottle aside and straddled him around the middle.

“Color?” Jack asked.

“Green,” Gabriel replied.

“Mmm, good. Hottest sex toy ever,” Jack murmured. He lifted his body and then slowly lowered himself onto that glorious cock, groaning at the delicious stretch and burn. He had his head thrown back, moaning, but as he bottomed out he felt Gabe move beneath him. Jack opened his eyes and frowned at him, because his hands had moved, probably of their own accord, reaching for his hips.

“Sex dolls don’t move,” Jack reminded him, pushing his hands away, back to their resting place on his chest.

Gabriel was breathing harder, but he obediently went still again, his eyes wide and dark. When Jack rose and then lowered himself again, he thought maybe Gabriel’s hips moved of their own accord, and he definitely saw his fingers twitch, but Gabe was making a valiant effort to remain still and play the game.

“Mmm, Gabe, baby, I miss you so much,” Jack groaned, picking up the pace.

His body gleamed with sweat and he was panting hard, because he was now fucking himself relentlessly on Gabriel’s cock, shamelessly using him like the sex toy he was pretending to be.

“Want your cock so badly, baby!”

Much to his credit, Gabriel managed to remain mostly still. When Jack peeked out from beneath his lashes, he was pleased to see his ‘sex toy’ was more than a little affected. Gabriel’s bronze skin glistened with sweat, and he was breathless. His fingers were curled tightly on his chest, practically digging into his skin. But most of all, it was the obvious hunger on his face, the way he bit his lip to force himself to keep quiet, the large roundness of his eyes. He looked so perfectly, delightfully, alluring.

Just the thought of how crazy he was making Gabe was enough for Jack. He threw his head back with a soft cry. “Goddamn, I’m gonna… gonna come!”

And he did, explosively, hot streaks of come streaking Gabriel’s chest, Jack’s body clenching and spasming around him.

“Oh _fuck_!” Gabriel’s hands shot out, grabbed Jack’s waist, gripping hard enough to bruise, and his hips thrust of their own accord, pumping through Jack’s clenching. “Jack! Fuck… fuck… _fuck…_ ” Gabe cried out as he came just as explosively, filling him with warmth. “Ahhhh… _god…_ that was… holy shit…” He was panting outright as he collapsed to the bed with a groan, eyes closing.

It took Jack a moment to catch his breath enough to speak. “Looks like my sex doll became a real boy at the end there,” he said.

Gabriel opened his eyes to stare at him. He sucked air in noisily, trying to catch his breath. “Well, your ass _is_ pretty magical, Jackie.”

They both burst into laughter then, and Jack slid off him and flopped on the bed beside him, draping a leg over Gabriel’s. “Fuck, Gabe, I needed that so badly… you don’t understand…” Jack murmured.

Gabriel remained quiet, seemingly focused on regulating his breathing again. But he wrapped an arm around Jack and pulled him closer, encouraging him to snuggle. They lay in silence, sated and happy, for a while, almost dozing, until Gabe finally shifted uncomfortably. “Jack, let’s go get cleaned up.”

 

 

Which is why a little while later, they stood in the huge glass shower stall, chest to chest and with their arms around each other, Jack resting his head under Gabe’s chin. They swayed gently to some hidden beat, steam curling around them in wispy clouds. Jack watched through half-closed eyes as silver droplets dribbled down Gabriel’s perfect skin. He was the most relaxed he had been since... well, ever really.

 _Home,_ he thought. _This is my home. Right here. These arms, this voice, this man. It doesn’t matter what Overwatch brings, or how I end up fitting myself into Olivia and Gabriel’s life. It only matters that I’m here, right where I belong._

Gabriel shifted, reached back to turn off the water so they wouldn’t keep wasting it. Then his arm was back around Jack, tightening protectively around him. Jack smiled when he felt the coarse hair of Gabriel’s beard rub gently against his cheek. Then soft lips gently sought his out, and they kissed, tenderly at first, and then more passionately. Jack’s back ended up pressed against the wall, which was cold at first but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Gabriel’s lips on his, and the gently probing tongue in his mouth. Jack cupped his lover’s face with both hands, thumbs gently rubbing at his beard in soft circles.

When they finally had to break apart to breathe, Gabriel instantly buried his face in Jack’s neck. The blonde wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, but it took him a moment to realize the steadily-building tension, the stiffness in those shoulders, and the slight trembling of the body pressed against his.

“Gabe?” he asked, frowning. “Are you okay?”

There was no immediate answer, nor movement beyond the trembling. But finally, after Jack spent several minutes rubbing circles slowly over Gabe’s back and shoulders, the man took a deep breath and lifted his head, just enough, to whisper in his ear.

“I’m sorry, Jackie.”

Jack tried to move back, so he could see his face, see if he was actually crying, because his voice sounded thick. But Gabriel’s arms tightened around him and pressed against the wall as he was, Jack couldn’t actually step back.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been neglecting you. Us. I…I’m so overwhelmed right now. Just…Overwatch, the interviews, the cameras, my family, Olivia…” Gabriel swallowed; Jack felt it against his shoulder. “I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going. I was created to fight a war and I was damned good at it, but it’s over and now what?”

“Now?” Jack replied. He tightened his arms around him. “I’ll be honest. I don’t know, Gabe. We’re stuck in this Limbo and I don’t know what my part is to play right now. But… I know you don’t have to do all of it alone. I’m right here. I’m scared, but we can figure it out. And you didn’t neglect me. I know this has been a lot for you. Come on, now, look at me.”

It took a bit of coaxing but Gabriel finally straightened. Jack couldn’t tell if the moisture on his face signified tears or just water from their shower. Either way, Jack gently rubbed the pad of his thumbs over Gabriel’s cheeks. “You listen here. The only way we’ve ever succeeded is by watching each other’s six.” He was, not by accident, echoing something the older Gabriel had said in Romania. “I’m scared shitless of this Strike-Commander crap, okay? But as long as we do it all together, we’re gonna succeed.”

“Okay.” Gabriel let out a deep breath. “I think you’re right, about Overwatch anyway. But really, I have no idea what the hell made me think I could ever raise a kid. And what was the older me thinking, putting me in this position? Olivia deserves better. I’m a weapon, a tool.”

Jack sighed. “Gabe, you’re her dad, for fuck’s sake, and she fucking _adores_ you. I watch you two. She loves you and you make her feel safe. And for a kid who lost everything and pretty much watched her parents die… safety and love is everything she needs right now. All the other shit is going to fall into place.” He let out a deep breath and pulled Gabriel flush against his body again. “And I’m going to do whatever you need me to do, okay?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me she was calling you by your name? You’re not her uncle, and you’re not just some guy named Jack hanging around her. You’re my partner. You’re the one who convinced me to go talk to her in the first place. I want you to be part of her life, and mine… I mean if you want to be.”

“I want to be. I want to be, so badly,” Jack murmured, wrapping his arms around him tightly once more. “But I don’t know what she should call me. Look, I’m not happy with how Elise went about it, but she is right about our public image.” He felt Gabriel go rigid against him and he knew Gabriel was pissed again. “Gabe… you know she’s right. Especially before the Overwatch announcement. She didn’t even know about that, but she was right. This is a delicate time.”

Gabe drew back suddenly, openly scowling. “Olivia is four goddamn years old, and I am not going to fucking explain this PR shit to her. I am _not_ going to confuse her. That kid adores you already, in case you hadn’t noticed. When I was arguing with Elise, who did she go to for comfort? Not Ana! When she was being fussy about food, who convinced her to eat almost everything on her plate? She was freaked out this morning about being separated from me, but she was still fine with you. Jack, she knows who you are. We just have to tell her what’s appropriate for her to call you. She just doesn’t know.”

Jack was silent, leaning back against the wall, and after a moment of Gabriel staring at him he huffed angrily and stepped out of the shower. He snatched a towel and stormed off into the bedroom. Jack rubbed his eyes tiredly, then walked out after him, wrapping a towel around his waist.

“Gabe—”

“I’m tired, Jack. It’s late and I have to be up early to take Olivia to her appointment, and—”

“No,” Jack interrupted firmly. When Gabe turned around finally to look at him, the blonde shook his head. “We’re not doing this. We’re not going to bed angry. We’re not shutting each other out. Communication is something we have to work on, every step of the way. You’ve seen the result of not doing so, in Romania. I don’t want that to be us.”

Gabriel slowly sat down on the bed. He really did look so exhausted and Jack felt a touch guilty for keeping him up. But the blonde had to stand his ground. This was too important. He went and sat down next to Gabe on the bed.

“You know what really fucking hurt today?” Gabe said after a moment. “When Elise said you weren’t Olivia’s father. She corrected herself and said she meant it legally, but still. It was like a knife in my heart.” He let out a deep breath, slowly. “Jack, I tried to get the orphanage to put you on the paperwork. But in Mexico, we’d have to have been legally married at the time I adopted her. I don’t give a shit what a piece of paper says. Yes, I want it done legally so if something happens to me, you have full authority over what happens to her. But, Jack, from the moment I walked out of the orphanage with her, you were her father, just as much as I was. I want you in my life, and I want you in her life.”

“And I very much want to be in both your lives. I love you both, so goddamned much. But we need to tread carefully, at least in public,” Jack said quietly.

“I’m trying to keep Olivia out of public scrutiny, as much as possible. It’s why I’m cooperating with all the photoshoots and interviews Adawe wants me to do. It’s why I’ve talked to the paparazzi, given them full access to me but asking them to leave Olivia and my parents and sisters alone. It’s why I put up with Elise’s constant harping. If giving her a normal life, and giving all of us a normal life behind closed doors, means I have to put up with constant public scrutiny? Fine. I’ll pay the price. But I need you to work with me in our private life.”

Jack let out a deep breath. “Okay. Of course I will. What do you want me to do?”

Gabriel was silent for a moment. “Come with me. To the appointment with Dr. Berk, I mean. When I spoke to her on the phone, she asked if I had a spouse or partner. She said it would be good for all of us to be there, at least at that first appointment. She said Olivia’s family life is key to her mental and emotional health, and Dr. Berk wants to get to know all of us.” When Jack’s brow furrowed, Gabe held up a hand. “Don’t worry, it falls under doctor-patient confidentiality.”  

Jack sighed softly. “Yeah, of course I’ll go. You kind of mentioned that before, after you made the appointment, but you didn’t really ask me to go…”

“Well, I was… kind of hoping you’d ask to go?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a long moment, before they finally just laughed a little. “Oh my god, we are fucking awful at this communication shit. We have to do better, Gabe,” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, we do.” Gabe rubbed his face with his towel before tossing it on the floor. Then he lay down on the bed. Jack flicked the nearest light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Then he tossed his towel aside and curled up against him, spooning him, wrapping his arms around Gabriel’s body protectively.

“You weren’t actually talking to Molly, were you?” Gabe asked after a few minutes of quiet between them.

“No, but I couldn’t say who it was in front of the team.”

“How are they doing?”

Jack shrugged a little. “Jack didn’t elaborate too much, other than I guess Gabe had a bad pain day recently and he’s been kind of surly. I… don’t think anything is really fixed between them. I don’t get that impression from Jack. He still sounds… sad, I guess. Tired.”

Gabriel was silent for a while. “That scares me more than anything, Jack. The idea that we’d ever get to the point of not being able to fix things between us.”

“It scares me too. Which is why we need to do better at talking.” He kissed Gabriel’s shoulder, taking a deep breath and inhaling the heady scent gently wafting off his lover’s skin: soap mingled gently with the masculine, warm scent that was uniquely Gabe. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jackie.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A belated Christmas chapter! 
> 
> Old Gabe and Old Jack get some surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still alive!
> 
> I apologize for not updating since September, but work, Blizzcon, more work, and the holidays have positively kicked my ass! I was trying really, really hard to get this chapter out in time for Christmas, but it's 5 days late. Oh well, at least it made it in before the new year!
> 
> I do want to point out that this is the first chapter where we get a POV from an OC... I know OCs aren't some people's cup of tea, but it's impossible to write a novel length piece with just a handful of canon characters as provided by Blizzard. Without OCs, the world is going to feel empty. I always endeavor to make certain that my OCs are not only fitting to the world I am writing, but more importantly, don't take the spotlight away from the main characters, which in this case are the Jacks and Gabes, of course. But going forward, we will see more OCs appear, and sometimes even get their POV on what is going on. 
> 
> Sidenote: I was writing this chapter right up until the moment I posted it, so it was NOT beta read. All fuck-ups, meandering, and incoherence are 100% mine.

It was a whispering sound, rather like the sound of shifting silk.

In the silence he preferred when he was working, it was a sound he’d become familiar with of late. Almost immediately the thought occurred to Dr. William Cooper, and not for the first time: his visitor couldn’t be made of actual smoke, because that sound had to be made by something tangible.

Even as he set down the data pad he’d been jotting notes on, William’s nimble mind was busy working out the problem. Not the one he’d been focused on a moment ago. But rather, he was considering what it would take to make his visitor’s existence possible.

He’d already considered, and discarded, the possibility that the man wasn’t a man at all, wasn’t human. There was no evidence to support it. Despite the mask, and despite the unusual abilities, Reaper had distinctly human reactions. Amusement, annoyance, sarcasm, wit. Not that sentient omnics didn’t possibly have the ability to display those things, but… well you could tell a human from an omnic.

So, when he thought about his visitor, he always started with the base assumption that the man was exactly that—a man.

He watched impassively from his desk as the black smoke billowed through the small opening William purposely left with the window. In the beginning he’d been afraid of this strange person. But scientific curiosity, coupled with the fact that the Reaper _had_ saved his life and continued to watch over him, had long since caused the fear to fade. William’s other friend, the one who had warned him of the incoming attempt on his life, had cautioned him, since they didn’t really know a thing about the masked man. But the Reaper had had ample opportunity to take his life, or sell out the location of this safehouse.

“Hello, Reaper,” William said as soon as the smoke had formed itself into its usual shape.

Again, his scientific mind was trying to piece together the _how_. If Reaper was a man, then what would it take to break down a human body like that, and then piece it back together again perfectly? Even the clothing was perfect. He could hear the creak and whisper of the leather coat and other pieces of his outfit. The mask looked solid, like it had been carved out of bone. When the Reaper walked, he had weight to him, because his boots sounded heavy and metallic. And yet he had the ability to smoke at will, and even create tendrils that could thrash and do damage, or wrap around a human throat and crush the life from it. William had witnessed this when those mercenaries had come to take him away.

“Doctor Cooper,” Reaper said in that distorted gruff voice. “All is well, I hope.”

 _The mask must have a voice modulator,_ William reasoned.

“More than,” the doctor said with a genuine smile. “I received a most welcome call yesterday from an old friend.”

Reaper inclined his head slightly to the side, the movement indicating curiosity. He was standing, casually leaning against the wall next to the window, arms crossed on his broad chest, a claw tapping lightly on the arm guards.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” William said, standing up and making a motion towards the chair across his desk. “Can I get you a beer? I’m going to check on my wife, make sure she doesn’t walk in here while you are here.”

“She’s gone,” Reaper replied. “Along with your son. And their escort. They went shopping. I made sure you were alone. But I’ll take that beer anyway.”

When William came back into the room, his guest had sat down in the indicated chair, which even now creaked a little with the occupant’s movement as Reaper turned towards him a little. The chair was, perhaps, not entirely suited for a man of the vigilante’s size and apparent weight. William sat down in his own chair and gazed across the desk at his guest. At his savior.

His other friend, the hacker, had been the reason for Linda and their son Ben leaving for Florida when the attack was imminent. He’d wanted William to leave as well, but the doctor had pointed out that if someone was coming after him, his wife and son weren’t safe around him. And then he’d refused to leave all of his precious medical journals and experiments behind, which is why he’d nearly ended up killing himself when he didn’t leave his house soon enough to avoid the mercenaries.

But Reaper and his Soldier friend had been the ones to actually show up to fight and save him. And, despite William being skeptical about it, offer him a better life. He’d been patient—Reaper had said it might take a bit of time—but somewhere deep in his heart, William hadn’t really believed. He’d been mulling over where in the world he could go to keep his family safe, because he refused to live under house arrest all his life. He’d even considered what he would have previously deemed the impossible: asking Petras for help and immunity, which would have cost William a great deal, he was sure. But what choice did he have, if he was to keep his family safe?

And then the call had come in.  

“How did you do it?” William suddenly asked his silent guest. He’d been watching as Reaper used the bottle’s neck to push aside his mask just enough to let him drink, but not enough to reveal any of his face, really, besides a hint of a well-kept beard. The room was semi-dark, the way William preferred to work, and anyway he knew Reaper would have turned off any excess lights. “The phone call I mean. How did you arrange it?”

The beer bottle was down now, the mask back in place, and the white bone tilted slightly, curiously. “Phone call?” the vigilante asked calmly.

“I suspect you know about it,” William replied. “It was my old friend and comrade, General Lancaster.” Mike had called him right after the attack, despite how busy the general had been with everything after the war. Hearing from him again so soon had been a pleasant surprise. “He called to see how I was doing, since the attack. And to invite me to his retirement party.”

“That was nice of him,” Reaper replied. He paused to take a sip of his beer. “There was more to it, I take it?”

William let out a deep breath. “We spoke for several hours. He told me all about Overwatch, how it’s going to be expanded to help the world with post-war recovery. How they want me to lead the medical division.”

He paused, swallowing past the lump in his throat. The SEP was supposed to have been a breakthrough in medical science for humanity. Instead, he’d ended up killing a bunch of young soldiers and turning the survivors into weapons for the United States. That they had ultimately been a major part of saving humanity was hardly a ringing endorsement for William but rather spoke about their own heroism. For his part, he’d resigned himself to the idea that he would never achieve his goals of helping humanity with his genetic research. And he’d especially resigned himself to having a special place in hell reserved especially for him, for all the lives he’d taken back during the SEP.

Except now, someone was giving him a second chance. To make a difference, to save lives, to maybe start making up for breaking his oath so badly. He had no idea why he was being given this chance, and he didn’t think it would ever really outweigh what he’d done to those soldiers. But… but it was something.

“It’s more than I deserve,” he said out loud, absently. He realized that he’d been quiet for a long time, and that Reaper hadn’t interrupted his meandering thoughts, content to sit and sip at his beer, watching him.

“Maybe,” Reaper replied calmly. “Or maybe someone out there thinks you can do some good.”

William entwined his hands and resting them on the desk. “You saved my life. And you seemed to have had something to do with this phone call, despite your attempt to dodge the question. Is that what you think? That I can do some good?”

The white bone mask tilted to the side once more. William could only see darkness where the eyeholes were (although he remembered that back during the fight with the mercenaries, he’d caught a glimmer of something red and glowing there instead). But despite the shadows, he could feel that he was being stared at, studied. He looked back steadily, waiting. Refusing to let this question drop.

“If I didn’t, would I have bothered to save your life?” the vigilante finally replied.

“You told me that day, in my home, that… that Reyes and Morrison would need me.”

Reaper nodded. “They will need you. But the real question, Doctor, is… do _you_ think you can do some good?”

“Of course I do. I still have much to offer the world. Especially a world suffering after the war.”

 “Then I guess it’s a good thing I saved you, yeah?” Reaper took the last sip of beer, emptying the bottle. He set it down and then sat very still, watching the doctor from behind his mask.

 William sighed. “If you have something to tell me, you should likely say so now. They are moving my family and me soon. For a brief period, we will be in a military base up in New York. And then, my new home with Overwatch will be in Los Angeles.”

 If the vigilante hadn’t been so still and so completely in control all this time, William might have missed the startled reaction he had now, because it happened in the blink of an eye. The man gave a little jerk of his head and there was a sudden tension in his shoulders. In the next moment the surprise tension was gone.

 “If and when I have something to tell you, Doctor, I can easily find you. Here. New York. Los Angeles. Switzerland.”

That should have been creepier and scarier than it was, especially since William hadn’t even mentioned Switzerland. And yet he felt an odd sense of comfort sweep over him. Perhaps he was a fool for trusting someone who chose to wear a leather costume, claws, and a bone mask. But no evidence had presented itself thus far that Reaper was dangerous to Cooper, or his family. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Reaper stood up suddenly. “Time for me to go,” he said.

William was used to his guest leaving quite without warning. Usually because someone else was arriving at the house.

“Don’t be a stranger, Reaper,” the doctor said.

The vigilante had moved towards the window, but he paused and the white mask peered at him. William had a vague sense that he was amused.

“Sure, Doc,” Reaper replied. He dissolved into black smoke and slipped out the window.

Something in the back of William’s brain itched, but in that moment there came a knock at his front door, and he had no more time to think about it, because the FBI agents that kept watch over him and his family were checking in to see how he was doing. So he rose, took note that the beer bottle had disappeared with Reaper—as it always did—and walked out of his office.

 

* * *

 

Fuck, he missed Sombra.

Gabriel glared at the computer screen as if it were personally insulting him. His fingers drummed on the wooden desktop, and he sort of regretted that he wasn’t in his combat outfit and thus didn’t have the claws on. There was something satisfying about the clicking of his steel claws on a hard surface, especially when he was trying to think.

He’d gone into Talon and his new mission intending to go at it completely alone. It made things harder, sure, but it was better that way. No attachments. No betrayals. At least it had been that way, until Sombra had wormed her way into his sphere. Learning to trust her had taken time, of course. But she had proven that her goals and his were not unaligned. She had trusted him first—a dangerous game, really, considering his reputation as a cold-blooded mercenary. It would have been very easy to hand her over to Vialli, or later Doomfist, as a traitor. It would have further cemented the slowly-growing trust Talon had in him, which would have put him one step closer to this ultimate goal.

She was too valuable for that. But beyond her value as a hacker and information source he’d come to… well… _like_ her. And then later, _trust_ her.

In some ways, it was stupid, really. Emotional attachments are what had made him blind, and ultimately got him killed, when Overwatch was poisoned from within. Sombra was a weakness he could ill afford. Because the reality was that if he had to make the choice between saving her if she got into trouble and preserving a mission he’d been working on for nearly seven years…

**You would choose her. Even if it completely undid everything you’ve been doing for years.**

Gabriel shook his head to clear it. His thoughts were spiraling in useless directions, as they were wont to do when he was frustrated, and Reaper’s commentary wasn’t helping.

 _Maybe,_ he said noncommittally.

**Not maybe. You would. I can see it.**

_It doesn’t matter,_ Gabriel countered with an inward sigh. _None of it matters. If everything goes according to plan, none of that will even happen._ Reaper fell silent.

But that was the problem, really. In order for things to go according to plan, he needed better resources than he currently had. Oh, things had been quiet for months and the only thing he’d had on his plate, in terms of action, had been to make sure Dr. Cooper stayed alive. Which, after the initial attempt on his life, had been easy enough because Cooper’s mysterious assailants didn’t try again. It didn’t mean they _wouldn’t_ try again to abduct the good doctor, but there were things clicking into place finally that would go a long way towards keeping Cooper safe.

Soon, very soon, other events would be ramping up; he would need to know where and how and when to strike. Good ol’ fashioned spywork could and would take care of that, to be sure. And he had Jack he could depend on, to help with it.

But Gabriel still needed a hacker. A hacker he could trust.

Which brought him down to his current predicament: sitting in their nice apartment in Fairfax, staring at a computer screen, waiting and frustrated beyond words, and wishing Sombra was here. She’d be laughing at him right now, all while expertly tapping away at her keyboard, teasing him endlessly, but getting the job done. Delivering the intel he needed with a smartass comment that would annoy the shit out of him, only to later curl up against him on the couch in the common room, keeping him company while he watched a _telenovela_.  Widowmaker would end up curling against his other side eventually, doing her nails or some other girly shit, and pretending she wasn’t vaguely fascinated by the dramatics on the show.

Fuck, he missed Sombra. _And_ Widowmaker.

If he was honest, he missed the women because there wasn’t all the emotional baggage that his current companion came with.

**As usual, you make everything so much more complicated than it needs to be.**

_Shut the fuck up,_ Gabriel snapped back at the AI.

He shook his head to clear it again. Thoughts… spiraling… again… dammit…

The doorbell rang. Gabriel stopped drumming his fingers, inclining his head slightly to the side as he listened to Jack pleasantly greet one of their neighbors in that gruff voice of his. A little shiver went down Gabriel’s spine.

Gabriel didn’t move, not until sometime later when he heard their neighbor leave. It was only then that he headed into the common area. It was getting late in the day and he had to start on dinner for Jack.

The soldier was seated at the dining table, nursing a cup of coffee and thumbing through something on his phone. Gabriel didn’t say a word as he walked into the kitchen and began preparing to cook. But he was tacitly aware of when Jack stood up from the table and came over to lean against the island countertop, watching him as he seasoned some chicken breasts while olive oil heated up on the range.

“Our neighbor Daniel dropped by with some news,” Jack said after a few moments. When Gabriel grunted in acknowledgement, the soldier continued. “You know he and Aiko just had twin girls. I guess they bought a house and are moving out of the building in late January.”

Gabriel paused and looked at him finally, blinking for a moment. “Oh,” he said after a moment. Then he turned back to place the chicken breasts in the hot pan.

“Daniel wanted to talk to you personally, since he knows how fond you are of Bunny. But I didn’t think you’d want to. So I just told him you weren’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Gabriel replied absently. He was quiet for a bit. Jack didn’t move. “I mean, we’re not going to be around here much longer either. We have a mission to complete.”

From the corner of his eye he saw Jack shrug. “I know. I just thought you’d want to know. Daniel said we could have Bunny over whenever we want, before they leave. To say goodbye.”

Gabriel grunted again. Jack stood there a few minutes longer, but since he was busy cooking, the soldier finally left him alone, heading back into the living room. With the chicken cooking, Gabriel washed his hands and turned to the business of chopping tomatoes and onions for _pico de gallo._ He was glad to have something to occupy his mental energy away from his frustrations. Cooking had always been therapeutic, something he did when he was especially feeling out of control with something else in his life. At least he always had control of what he did with ingredients.

 **We never really understood your attachment to the canine. It would make a better snack than it does a companion,** Reaper said after a while. **And yet, you are upset by the prospect of it going away, and trying not to think about it.**

 _Oh fuck off,_ Gabriel thought, annoyed. He had almost sliced himself at the sudden intrusion. _What, all those fancy psychology books Sombra shoved in my head don’t say anything about humans needing companionship_?

**There is plenty on humans and their need for companionship. Sadly none of these books tell us why you would replace a perfectly good human who can give you no pain for a useless animal.**

_How many times do I have to tell you, Reaper_? _It’s complicated._

**It really is not. You are the only one making this complicated.**

_Stay the fuck out of my personal business. You can’t begin to understand this mess._

If the A.I. could sigh, it probably would have at that moment. Thankfully, Gabriel’s phone sounded off. He was done chopping, so he washed his hands, flipped the chicken with a spatula, and slipped the phone out of the pocket of his jeans.

He’d set up alerts for any news story that featured the younger Gabriel and Jack, as well as Dr. Cooper, and a few other important people he was keeping track of. The story that came up was a fluff piece. Must have been a slow news day. The gossip column featured pictures of the strike team at Rockefeller Center: Ana and Fareeha sipping hot chocolate at the side of the ice rink, Jack and Reinhardt doing a strong-man pose in front of the lit Christmas tree, Torb and his wife Ingrid hugging. The centerpiece photo was of young Gabe, on ice skates, holding the hand of a tiny Olivia, who looked uncertain as she looked down at the ice. On her other side, holding her other hand, was a slender woman with dusky-brown skin, curly dark hair hidden beneath a white hat, her smile wide and beautiful. The caption under the photo read: _Commander Gabriel Reyes with his sister, Sylvia Reyes-Alfonsi_ (left) _, as she helps keep her niece Olivia, 4, from falling on the ice at Rockefeller Center, New York City._

Gabriel cursed, dropping his phone at the sudden and unexpected gut punch.

He must have sworn louder than he intended to, because Jack came in just then and paused, watching him. Gabriel was still just standing there, staring at the dark screen of his phone.

“Gabe?” he finally asked cautiously. “Are you ok?”

Maybe he’d gone pale. Maybe it was his expression. Gabriel didn’t know, but he was aware that Jack moved closer to him now, concern on his scarred face. Gabriel had an instinctual urge to smoke away, to find a dark place to hide in, but the sizzling sound from the range reminded him he shouldn’t. Without really thinking about it, Gabriel picked up his phone—his hands were shaking a little—and activated it, then pushed it into Jack’s hands and turned away to go back to cooking.

Jack was quiet for a few. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I know it must be difficult to see her.”

Difficult didn’t begin to describe it. He’d been avoiding thinking about his family. But it was getting harder, with young Gabriel always in the news, and all the domestic photos being taken. Suddenly he was very grateful for Jack’s companionship. Jack knew. Jack had been there for him.

And Jack didn’t push him now to talk, or to deal with it. He just stayed in the kitchen, a silent but warm presence.

Gabriel pushed away his spiraling thoughts once more, and focused on dinner. On the here and now, of which Jack was a part of. He couldn’t afford to get distracted, to bog himself down with regrets in his former life, or even to miss Sombra and Widowmaker, because if everything went according to plan, they would never become Sombra and Widowmaker. And his sisters would never have to suffer. None of the people he cared about would suffer their shitty fates.

That’s what he had to focus on. The mission. Making everything better, before all the bad shit happened. Tracer had said he was just stubborn enough to pull it off, after all.

Jack placed a hand on him. _I’m here._

The tension drained from Gabriel’s shoulders.

 

* * *

 

Jack was actually sleeping. Gabriel could hear his snoring from the other room. Maybe it was the walk they took after dinner. He had planned to go by himself after serving dinner, to clear his head, but Jack had asked him to wait and if it was alright for him to come too.

So they had taken a walk in the brisk winter air, across the snow-covered park and avoiding going under the trees heavy with ice. The line of houses across the street from the park were all lit up in brilliant lights and decorated with all kinds of Christmas-y things, except for the one house where the Coopers used to live, which was dark and had a For Sale sign in front of it. Their apartment building was lit up too, most of the tenants having made some kind of effort to wrap strings of lights around their balconies and windows. Except for theirs; it was noticeable that they hadn’t decorated at all, not even the glow of a Christmas tree inside to show for it.

Gabriel had lowkey expected Jack would decorate, because Jack had _always_ decorated, back before the fall of Overwatch. Christmas has been for Jack Morrison what Halloween had been for Gabriel Reyes: the absolute best time of the year. The one time in the year where the Strike-Commander indulged his inner child and made sure to spread plenty of joy to all of his employees as well.

But the old soldier wasn’t the same Jack Morrison. Gabriel probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Or disappointed.

Still, it hadn’t escaped Gabriel’s notice that Jack had stopped to stare at the twinkling display in the Cooper neighborhood for a long time, and that maybe he’d been smiling a little bit.

Maybe it was the walk. Maybe it was all the Christmas lights. Maybe it was the fact that even though they hadn’t talked about much on their evening walk, there had still been a comforting warmth between them. One that hadn’t been there before.

Regardless of the why, Jack slept better that night than most nights.

But that left Gabriel alone with his thoughts—and Reaper, unfortunately—as he contemplated his hacker problem. At 0300 he finally made headway on it, when one of the feelers he had put out there was answered.

Relief, coupled with a touch of regret, hit him when he finally made contact. Yes, he needed a hacker, one he could trust… but he’d been avoiding this particular hacker for months. It was only because he had a desperate need that he’d finally convinced himself to do it.

Nor would this one be easy to convince. Before Sombra had even been born, this particular hacktivist had been practically legend. Known only as Shadowfox, the hacker had been active since before the Crisis, and after the war had been responsible for ‘leaks’ that had resulted in Overwatch and the world becoming aware of corrupt governments and organizations that weren’t serving the needs of a wartorn world. Despite the fact that Overwatch couldn’t officially condone what he was doing, he’d been an ally of theirs for decades. At least until things started going south.

Gabriel had always wondered if the last job Shadowfox ever did before disappearing entirely was bust Blackwatch and Overwatch’s secrets wide open, shining a light in the darkness.

As much as that hadn’t done Gabriel OR the Strike-Commander any favors, it was just as well. By that point, Overwatch had been poisoned from within, and Gabriel had already been thinking it had to go anyway. No one had ever taken credit for the massive leak, but it was exactly the sort of thing Shadowfox would do. He always stood by his principles.

 

 ** Shadowfox ** **: You’ve been looking for me.**

 ** Reaper ** **:  Yeah. I’ve been looking for a hacker.**

 ** Shadowfox ** **: Hackers are a dime a dozen. You could pay any college kid with an internet connection to electronically compromise a bank or whatever kind of shit for you. I don’t do that kind of work. Even if I did, I’m not sure you could afford me.**

 ** Reaper ** **: Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I’ve been looking for a specialist with a conscience. We already worked together on a case, sort of. Even if you didn’t know it at the time. But we did have the same goal, ultimately.**

There was a very long pause, with no typing on the screen in response at all. Gabriel waited patiently, opening up another window and perusing through social media. As with his phone, he had alerts set up for persons of interest on his Twitter app, which tended to be full of just plain gossip and stupid crap. He sneered; of all the social media platforms that had been born out of the Millenial generation, the one that allowed just 140 characters (well, more nowadays) of trashy word vomit was the one that had stood the test of time. Go figure.

Despite the fact that it had been over a month and a half since the war had been officially over, ridiculous hashtags about the Strike Team were still trending. He had filters in the app for some of the more popular—if sometimes questionable—ones.

Of course Ana got the absolute best: #eyeofhorus was her most popular one. He perused her hashtags, catching a few more pictures from Rockefeller Center that random people had snapped. Someone had found a photo of a young Ana in her Egyptian army uniform, tagging it with #sniperqueen. God she looked good. People were surprisingly respectful of her and her young child, considering it was the internet. There was mostly great admiration and adulation of her. She deserved it.

Same with Torbjörn’s trending posts. Maybe it was how he openly appeared with his wife and children so often. There were a ton of Rockefeller Center pictures of him with his three kids on the ice, mostly tagged with the chuckle-worthy #turretbeard and #turretdad. There were a bunch of Swedes going on about how clearly the Swede on the team was responsible for winning the war, especially in keeping pinhead American soldiers in line (#swedepower), which made Gabriel outright laugh.

If anyone had kept the rest of the team in line, it was Ana, who had never put up with bullshit from her teammates.

But the cringe was real with the rest of the Strike Team members. There were some relatively innocent photos and comment threads about Reinhardt, who was particularly popular with the younger crowd due to his size and the fact that he wielded a flaming hammer in battle. There was a sweet photo of Reinhardt on the ice at Rockefeller, with all three of Torb’s kids hanging on his back and shoulders and a laughing Olivia cradled against his chest (#germanengineering). But the deeper one waded into Twitter, the less family-friendly the content became. Gabriel decided when he hit the #germandaddy tags that he’d had enough of that.

There was movement on his other screen and he noticed Shadowfox was typing. So the hacker hadn’t just decided to disappear. Good.

Gabriel turned back to Twitter, rolling his eyes at all the pictures of gorgeous Jack Morrison, smiling in almost all of them, and looking nothing short of angelic. He had a ton of associated hashtags, but the currently trending ones were #captainamerica #americanpie, #americashusband, and oh yes, #strikedaddy. People were constantly sharing the covers from some of his photo shoots for various magazines, as well paparazzi pictures, and god how did Jack _always_ manage to look so damn good? He always had that kind of sweet, shy boy-next-door smile. Photos were one thing; the comment threads, mostly from horny women (and men), were something else entirely. Lots of running commentary about fucking Jack’s brains out before taking him home to meet their mother.

Gabriel smirked. _Keep dreaming, assholes_. Only one person on the planet had actually managed that.

Back in his own time, he and Jack had spent a lot of time chuckling at social media, most of it centered around Jack. Gabriel hadn’t appeared on camera very often, and when he did, he hadn’t usually smiled. The lack of coverage, especially after Jack was announced Strike-Commander of Overwatch, meant Gabriel slipped out of the mind of the public fairly quickly.

That was very much not the case with this Gabriel. He appeared on camera at least as much as Jack did, and he was often smiling, which softened his features. The infamous _Time_ cover photo of him was still shared often, and so were the _Parenting_ pictures. Paparrazi in Los Angeles had gone nuts with the west coast’s new favorite son, and while Jack was more popular on the east coast of the US because of his All-American blonde looks, there had been a ton of photos snapped in New York City in the short span of time the team had been there.

In LA, it had been jeans and hoodies anytime he was out of uniform. But in New York, Gabriel was always wearing a damn suit, or a black trenchcoat and red scarf when he was outdoors. He always looked damn good. And where Jack seemed to be the Strike Team member everyone wanted to take home to their mother… Gabriel’s trending hashtags were all in the vein of #badboy, #talldark&hot, #baberielreyes #papichulo, #sipapi, and the godawful #dilf and #pilf (p for papi).

Oh god the _cringe,_ and the incredibly detailed vulgarity _._ It wasn’t even flattering, it was… _weird_. Plus the last two tags made Gabriel want to murder something. Not to mention all the blatant racism on display, because of course there was.

The internet was such garbage.

Although some of this did give him fuel. As soon as he could, he was absolutely going to tease the shit out of young Gabe.

 

 **Shadowfox** : **So you’re that Reaper. Did he tell you who I was?**

 ** Reaper ** **: I am. And he didn’t, but I visited him a lot while he was under protection. We chatted quite a bit. I put together the pieces, shall we say. There aren’t many hackers that do what you do.**

 ** Shadowfox ** **: Thanks for what you did for him. But I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Which, judging from how beefy Coop described you, isn’t far. So yeah, I think we’re done here.**

 ** Reaper ** **: He said you didn’t trust me. That’s okay. I can prove myself to you. You thought I was here to hire you? I’m not. It’s the other way around. I want to offer my services to you. Cooper almost died because you didn’t have boots on the ground. What if you did have someone that could do the dirty work for you? Get you into places that would be off limits to you normally. Protect people you care about, the way I protected Cooper until he was sent off to New York to meet his new employers.**

There was another pause. A much shorter one this time before the hacker was typing again.

 ** Shadowfox ** **: Interesting. But I’d have to trust you to begin with. And I have a hard time believing that anyone who un-ironically dresses himself like Death has the best interests of others at heart. That is some legit edgy shit, my dude.**

 ** Reaper ** **: So you judge a book by its cover, do you?**

Oh, he knew that would sting. The hacker went silent again. That was a direct strike at the heart, one Gabriel was able to hit precisely because he knew the real identity and history of Shadowfox… although of course he couldn’t actually play that card. If he did, the hacker would disappear forever to protect his family, maybe even stop what he was doing entirely… and Gabriel didn’t want that.

 ** Reaper ** **: How about a peace offering for you to consider?**

 ** Shadowfox ** **: Oh?**

 ** Reaper ** **: You might want to take a peek at the Suarez Shipping Co. of Madrid. It’s right up your alley. Go ahead and do some digging. I’ll wait.**

 ** Shadowfox ** **: You might be waiting a long time. Like, a really long time.**

 ** Reaper ** **: Death is eternal.**

 ** Shadowfox ** **: Man, fuck you.**

_Shadowfox has left the room._

Gabriel let out a deep breath. Okay, he hadn’t been able to resist a little bit of mind-fucking there at the end. Shadowfox may have left in a huff, but Gabriel had planted the seed. If Shadowfox looked into Suarez Shipping (and the curiosity would kill him until he did), he’d ultimately find that Suarez was being investigated by INTERPOL for trafficking. Human children and omnics, to be specific. Gabriel knew they were guilty because Blackwatch had helped INTERPOL take them down in his time, albeit not for another couple of years.

Trafficking was precisely the kind of shit Shadowfox actively fought against. It was the hacker’s one true passion. The reason for what he was doing.

And giving him this juicy prize might be enough to earn the hacker’s trust.

 

* * *

 

“So you decided to get Shadowfox involved,” Jack said.

It was well past ten in the morning. Jack had slept in, which was highly unusual, but he looked well rested, for once. Gabriel was leaning against the island counter, nursing a cup of coffee while Jack fried up some bacon and eggs for himself. It seemed that Gabriel forcing him to eat regularly had kick-started that super soldier metabolism again, which meant Jack was hungry often. Not to mention the fact that he wasn’t constantly ingesting liquid calories now. As long as Gabriel kept fresh food stocked in the kitchen, Jack was at least willing to make breakfast for himself now, and sometimes throw together a sandwich for lunch. But he never once suggested that he take over for dinners. He loved Gabriel’s cooking too much for that.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Gabriel replied. “We need Shadowfox’s resources.”

Jack grunted but he was busy with his breakfast.

Gabriel felt less frustrated than he did yesterday. He had to admit that the walk last night with Jack had been nice. The night had proven productive, with Shadowfox finally answering one of his feelers. And social media had amused him a great deal the rest of the night. Well, amused _and_ pissed him off, probably in equal parts.

He sat with Jack while he ate, and stayed at the kitchen table putting together a shopping list for the grocery store later that day. Jack went out for a jog, Gabriel begging off because he had sort of a slight headache that seemed to be getting worse as the morning dragged on. He didn’t think much of it; pain was a daily constant, and it was just a matter of where it would flare today. He kept himself busy writing down notes to himself about various cases he could toss Shadowfox’s way, to keep the man’s interest (cases that were also related to Gabriel’s ultimate goal. Even Suarez Shipping had a Talon thread that he wanted snipped).

Except that he slowly became aware that the pain in his head was more like mounting pressure, and it didn’t feel like his normal kind of pain. He stopped writing and turned his attention inward, and was barely aware of when the front door opened and Jack came in, still breathing hard from his workout and his jacket wet from falling snow. He only nodded when Jack made a passing comment about how heavy the sky was with the promise of a pretty big snowfall later, and then blankly watched Jack move down the hall towards the bathroom. It wasn’t until Gabriel heard the shower turn on that he focused inward again.

 _Reaper, what the fuck_?

There was a momentary silence. **We have never felt this before,** the AI replied finally. **We do not know what it is. We can find nothing in your brain that would explain this.**

Gabriel’s phone dinged with a message. Frowning, he picked it up off the table and glared at it.

 **Mijo** : Hi

Okay, that was random. Especially since no other message came through.

 **Rafael** : Hi? Is everything alright?

 **Mijo** : Yeah, everything is great. You busy?

 **Rafael** : Not really, I guess. Why? You need to call?

 **Mijo** : You could say that.

Gabriel waited. There wasn’t a follow up message or a call, and a prickle of irritation flared. He was about to shoot back a message about not wasting his time when the doorbell rang. Gabriel froze.

“No way,” he muttered. He stood up so fast he almost knocked over his chair. He was going to kill Gabe. How could he take such a goddamn risk—

Gabriel cursed under his breath, glancing down at himself. He was barefoot, in jeans and a long-sleeved black tshirt, and he’d fed recently enough that he should look normal. He could hear the shower still going, or he would have had Jack answer in case any other building tenants wandered by in the hallway. He had his long hair held back with a black elastic, but this he now pulled off as he walked over to the door, absently shaking his head to let his hair frame either side of his face. It made him look a lot less like that pretty boy Gabriel Reyes whose face was plastered all over the internet and tv.

He threw the door open and glared at the figure in the hooded black trenchcoat. There was, thankfully, no one in the hallway beyond, although at the very least the idiot had kept his hood up, mostly hiding his features. Although it didn’t hide his shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gabriel growled. He’d given the younger Jack and Gabe the address for this place, in case he and Jack disappeared or got themselves killed, at least all the meticulous writing Gabriel had been doing would still be here, locked up in a safe in the office.

He sure as shit didn’t expect them to use the information for a casual visit.

“Where’s your holiday spirit?” his younger self said. He drew the hood down as he walked past Gabriel. He had a black duffle bag slung over a shoulder, which he now dropped just inside the door before moving on.

With a huff, Gabriel poked his head out into the hallway, but it was empty. He closed the door and turned to glare at the younger man who stood in the center of the living room, unzipping the heavy black coat.

Despite his irritation, Gabriel couldn’t help but notice how good the kid looked. His beard was perfectly, neatly-trimmed, and he’d allowed the top part of his fade cut to grow out just a little. It suited him. Everything about him—the way he moved, the way he stood, the way his dark eyes took in the room—suggested power and grace. Gabriel had always endeavored to look good and command a room when he entered, and he sure remembered being cocky and very certain of himself after the war, because fuck it, he’d just won a goddamn war to save humanity… but this was different. There was something else about him that Gabriel couldn’t quite put his finger on.

 **It is the hive,** Reaper suddenly said.

 _What_? Gabriel replied, startled.  

**It is the hive we have been sensing. The part of our hive that is in him. We must have been sensing its proximity for hours now, without realizing what it was. That was the pressure you were feeling in your head. Proximity. But it… the hive is different.**

_Different how_?

Gabriel sensed hesitation from Reaper. **We do not know. It is just different.**

 _Well, that’s useful,_ he thought sarcastically. _Let me know when you figure it out._

Young Gabe had taken off his coat, draping it across an arm while he leaned against the back of the couch, looking at him expectantly and patiently waiting for him to come back from spacing out.

“Do you realize the risk you took coming here?” Gabriel growled angrily, crossing his arms on his chest. “What if someone sees you? What if someone sees you and connects the dots with me? I already have to remain out of sight during the day like a vampire because that goddamn pretty boy face of yours is plastered _everywhere._ ”

“Sorry,” Gabe replied, still grinning. He didn’t sound sorry at all and Gabriel rolled his eyes. “But no one saw me. I had my hood up. And it’s snowing pretty hard out there, there weren’t many people around. It’s pretty nice that you live deep in suburbia, not a single paparazzi anywhere to bother u—me.”

“Gabe?”

The surprised voice from the hallway made the younger man stand up straight, spinning around to greet the old soldier with a huge smile. “Jack!” He draped his coat over the back of the couch and walked around it towards the very startled older man. “Holy shit, Jack…” Gabe paused to stare at him, his eyes drifting slowly over him, from head to toe and back.

Jack noticed the fact that he was blatantly checked-out, because his pale cheeks flushed with color.

“What?” the older man asked quietly.

“You… look… _amazing_. You’ve been taking care of yourself. Eating more. You’ve filled out.”

Jack’s face flushed even deeper and he looked away, running a hand over his still-damp white hair. He was wearing simple jeans and a tshirt, but he _did_ look good, Gabriel had to agree. Despite his strength courtesy of SEP, there had definitely been a gauntness to him in Romania.

“You calling me fat, Reyes?” But the question was asked lightly. He obviously knew that wasn’t the case.

The younger man chuckled as he walked up to him. “You know I’m not, _cariño._ ” Without hesitation he threw his arms around Jack in a warm embrace. The old soldier almost seemed to melt into his arms. “You were hot in Romania, no lie. But you just have a healthier glow now, I guess.”

“Gabriel makes me eat better,” Jack replied, still smiling as they separated. He seemed more relaxed already, and happier, the smile genuine and reaching his beautiful blue eyes.

 _Christ, is a hug all it takes to make him happy_? Gabriel thought to himself.

**We have been trying to tell you as much for months now.**

_Shut up._

“The supermodel hasn’t yet explained what the fuck he’s doing here,” Gabriel said, taking the black coat on the couch and walking over to the foyer to hang it from a hook.

Something like a prickle of irritation crossed young Gabe’s features, but it quickly went away as he slipped his phone out of his pocket and tapped on it for a moment before putting it away again. “Can’t a man visit his own personal Ghost of Christmas Future?” he said, grinning again.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously before he huffed and turned away. “You hungry, _pendejo_?”

 **We are hungry.** Gabriel didn’t bother gracing Reaper with an answer.

“Like, always, thanks to you. But are you done?” young Gabe said.

“What do you mean am I done?”

“I mean, are you done yelling at me and being all pissy and shit.”

“I don’t yell, _cabrón_. You know this. Anyway, I’m still pissed at you, because you are a reckless idiot. But you’re here, so I guess I have to put up with you for now. You want something to eat or not?” Gabriel replied somewhat impatiently.

Young Gabe blinked at him for a moment, but instead of answering, he took out his phone again and typed something brief. “I wanted to be sure I came up here first, because I figured you would be pissed off. It seemed like a good idea to let you get it out of your system first. She’s really observant and very sensitive to people’s emotions. I didn’t want her to see you upset at me and end up scared of you.”

For a moment Gabriel just stared at him. Then he said, very quietly, “No.”

The doorbell rang. Young Gabe turned towards it, but Gabriel was suddenly standing in his way, grabbing his arms and staring into his eyes. His own goddamn eyes, and yet not. “ _No._ Why would you do this? I don’t need this!”

_I don’t need to get attached. I don’t need to feel. It was already so goddamn hard with Jack, and seeing Sylvia, and now the damn dog is going away…_

“It’s Christmas soon, that’s why. And, I get why you’ve never mentioned my… _our_ family. I get that it would be impossible for you to go home with me, how could we ever explain that?” The younger man placed his hands on Gabriel’s tense shoulders. “But Christmas was always important to our family. I’ve missed eleven Christmases with my sisters, Gabriel. Fucking _eleven,_ because of training and this fucking war _._ How many did you miss?”

 _Too many to count._ Gabriel swallowed but didn’t say a word.

The younger man’s eyes softened. “Look, you can’t come home with me, but… well do you remember what you said to me on the phone in August? When you were trying to convince me to adopt her? You made it pretty clear she was fucking important to you. You care about her so much, you changed her entire future. Her whole world. So why not meet her now? She’s four; there’s no harm. We’ll use your fake names around her as a precaution, but I mean, who the hell remembers anything as an adult from when they were four?”

Gabriel let go of him and walked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t ready. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her; of course he did. Desperately, he realized. Now that the opportunity was right in front of him, oh god, he wanted it so much. But he wasn’t sure he could handle it. He wasn’t sure he could remain in a cohesive state. And wouldn’t that be wonderful, fueling the kid’s goddamn nightmares by turning into a smoke monster?

“You could have asked, instead of springing this shit on me, Gabriel,” the older man said finally, his voice surprisingly steady. He was standing at the living room window, staring out into the snow-covered park.

He heard the younger Gabe moving towards the door. “You would have said no. Would have had all these perfectly logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. So. I didn’t ask.”

“Asshole,” Gabriel growled without much heat.

Suddenly Jack was there, and for the second time in the span of twenty-four hours, the old soldier placed a comforting hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Gabe. He’s not wrong. You should see this kid you’ve done so much for already.”

Gabriel said nothing as he listened to the door opening. He didn’t shake off Jack’s soothing touch, either.

 

 

“Took you long enough. Jesus. I’m roasting!”

“Sorry, babe. We were having an important talk,” Gabe replied with a chuckle.

“Papí!” She sounded so goddamn happy.

“ _Hola, mi princesa_.” 

Gabriel let out a deep breath and slowly turned around. His younger self was just then plucking Olivia, who was bundled up in a white coat with the hood drawn up, out of young Jack’s arms. Relieved of the child, Jack bumped the front door closed with his hip, then swept the cowl of his coat down, revealing his brilliant blonde hair, which was just a tad messy (in an unfairly handsome way) and still had that infamously stubborn cowlick sticking up in the back. With a sigh of relief, Blondie slipped a child’s pink cat-eared backpack off a shoulder, dropping it to the ground, before he pulled his coat and blue scarf off.

“No one saw you?” young Gabe asked.

“Nope!” Blondie replied with a cheerful grin. He was now in a long-sleeved navy-blue shirt that seemed to be having trouble containing his muscular chest. “It’s pretty quiet out there.” He hung his coat and scarf up with Gabe’s, just as the latter knelt down to set Olivia on her feet and help her out of her coat.

Gabriel couldn’t actually see her. She was hidden behind her father for the moment. But he could hear her, humming happy noises, and judging from the sound, hopping up and down. She gave a little shriek all of a sudden, twisting away from him a little.

“Papí, no!” she screamed, giggling.

“ _Niña,_ I’m not trying to tickle you. Stop squirming and we can get this over with fast,” Gabe said, sounding slightly exasperated. But he swept her into his powerful arms and proceeded to pepper her with kisses, resulting in more delighted shrieks.

Young Jack, his sky-blue eyes twinkling merrily, shook his head and walked past them, his gaze now set on the older pair still standing by the window. He smiled and nodded at Jack, but very quickly his eyes were locked on Gabriel.

“It’s been a year, but still so fucking hot, Gabe! Is your hair longer?” He walked right up to him, giving zero fucks about any semblance of personal space, and threw his arms around Gabriel, who heaved a deep sigh, pretending to be annoyed.

But really, it felt so amazingly good, to be hugged by this beautiful young blonde. So full of life and vigor and joy. 

Gabriel didn’t miss the sudden interest Reaper took; didn’t miss the black tendrils that appeared to wrap around Jack’s arm, discreetly. When the younger man started to pull away a bit, the tendrils tightened, keeping him still.

Jack laughed. “Hi, Reaper, I missed you too.”

**We like the blonde one.**

_I know, Reaper._

**You should keep him. He can give you no-pain days. Since you refuse to use the soldier in the same way.**

Gabriel rolled his eyes and didn’t dignify that with an answer.

When Reaper finally let Jack go, the blonde swept his gaze over his older self. “You’re looking really good too, Jack. Damn. I’m pretty hot at any age.”

“And so modest!” young Gabe called. He was standing up now, dropping a pair of tiny white snow boots next to the door beside his own, and grabbing the abandoned kitty backpack to hang it with the coats.

It wasn’t until then that Gabriel finally saw her. Young Gabe was carrying Olivia on one hip, her arm around his neck, and when they turned away from the coats, her hazel-green eyes swept curiously over the room and then over the people who were strangers to her. She was holding some kind of cloth doll toy in her hand, clutching it to her chest.

God, she was so… _tiny._ Sombra wasn’t exactly huge, especially next to him, but still, it startled him to see her like this. And yes, he could see Sombra in this child’s cherubic cheeks, her large eyes, the beauty mark beneath her left eye.

She gazed directly at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

This was… not Sombra. This was Olivia, innocent and sweet, unburdened by a lifetime on the streets or the dangerous games played with Talon and various other vile groups of people. Olivia would never need to know those things. She’d grow up properly safe and adored, in a stable home, with a family that loved her, get to go to school and college. Live a _normal_ life.

She dropped her doll, making an inquisitive noise as she leaned over her dad’s arms to look down after it. Young Gabe sighed, but before he could look for it, Gabriel stepped forward and picked it up. It was a simple rag doll with dark brown yarn for hair. He held it out to her.

Olivia looked at him curiously for a moment. But then, her cherubic face broke into a smile, even as she accepted the dolly back, pressing it against her chest once more.

“ _Gracias_!” she said.

It was her smile that did him in. All of his defenses, completely obliterated. He wasn’t even pissed at Gabe anymore.

“ _De nada, hermosa,_ ” he replied softly.

 

 

They talked for a little while, while Olivia sat on the living room floor, playing with toys that had come out of her kitty backpack. The Strike Team had done an early Christmas celebration in New York after the UN vote that sealed the deal on Overwatch, and then, for the first time in years, they had all gone their separate ways for the holidays, back home to visit their families. The toys Olivia was playing with were hand-carved out of wood, some were animals and some were vehicles that had moving parts; Torbjörn had apparently made them for her as a Christmas present. Reinhardt had gifted Olivia with the kitty backpack and a matching cat-eared hoodie (which she was wearing and had been wearing beneath her winter coat, because she apparently refused to not wear her hoodie), and Ana had gifted her clothes, scarves, and several dolls, one of which was the rag doll she kept close at hand.

“She’s not going to know what to do with herself on Christmas,” young Gabe said, shaking his head. “She was already… I don’t know… confused? Surprised? By the gifts she received from the team. She didn’t know what to do with the wrapped boxes at first. I mean I guess her family in Dorado didn’t have a lot of money. But my family is going to go crazy on her this Christmas. She’s the new favorite grandkid.”

“What did you get her?” old Jack asked.

“A tablet,” Blondie replied. “It was from both of us. I know she’s only four, but she’s sharp with computers. She plays games on them and learns pretty damn fast. There are a bunch of learning games for kids on the new one we got for her and they keep her entertained for hours.” His lips twitched. “Also, she’s apparently better with technology than Gabe is.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gabe grumbled. “I didn’t know she was going to do anything to it.” When he received questioning looks from the older two, he sighed. “The first time I gave her my tablet to play a game on, she fucked it up. She goddamn locked me out of it! I don’t know how she did it. I had to take it to a tech in New York, who had to do a damn reset on it because he couldn’t get into it either. It’s a good thing I didn’t have anything really important on there.” He scowled at old Gabriel, who was chuckling softly under his breath.

“She was so proud of herself too! She had the tablet for a while, then she brought it over to Gabe and was just, beaming when she gave it to him, and watched him try to unlock it for quite some time. Meanwhile he’s trying not to lose his temper and cuss in front of her,” Blondie said with a huge grin. “I think she was trolling you, babe. She hasn’t locked her tablet at all.”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. Gabriel burst into real laughter then, just about falling out of his chair. The glare his younger self leveled at him just made him laugh harder.

  

 

It was pleasant to just chat with the younger two, and Gabriel was quietly pleased with how things were going on their end. But at one point he glanced at the time and said he needed to go shopping. The market was within walking distance and anyway he could use some air. Young Gabe offered to go with him, but Gabriel shot that down. He definitely didn’t need them seen together, it would be too obvious how similar they looked. He also didn’t want Blondie with him, because he was just as popular these days, his face just as well known, and he didn’t need that association either. He left the old soldier with them, since Jack seemed strangely content.

When Gabriel returned to the apartment, he was carrying a bunch of shopping bags. The tv was on in the living room streaming some old superhero movie, and young Gabe was sprawled on the sofa. Neither of the Jacks or Olivia were in sight, however.

“Where is everyone?” Gabriel asked.

“My Jack got a bug up his butt about something, wanted to run to the store and he dragged your Jack with him,” young Gabe replied, sitting up.

“So they are getting along now?”

“Yeah, you know how Jack is. He can hold a serious grudge, but then like, he doesn’t. He can forgive pretty easily. But anyway, I guess he recently needed some advice about something and called up your Jack. Ever since then they’ve been alright.”

“Huh. Jack never mentioned it.” Gabriel set his bags on the floor so he could take off his wet jacket. It was snowing pretty hard out there. “Come make yourself useful, _chamaco._ Where’s your girl?”

Gabe grumbled, but he shut off the movie and came over to grab some of the bags. “Taking a nap. Jack said it was okay to use the bed in there.”

“Good. We have time to talk then. And you can help me work on dinner. You staying the night?”

“Don’t want to put you out, since we kind of just invited ourselves. If it’s too crowded, we can just go find a hotel.”

“Nope. I don’t sleep, and I’m sure Jack won’t mind giving up the bed. Besides, the weather is getting worse as the day goes on.”

Bags were emptied, cutting boards and knives came out, the oven was turned on to pre-heat, and with an efficiency born of learning to cook from the same women in their lives, they set to preparing a meal fit for Christmas.

As they marinaded and chopped, Gabriel asked him a few pointed questions, but he mostly let young Gabe talk. Mostly about the recent vote by the UN in New York. Back in Los Angeles, Adawe had listened to the team’s proposal on structuring Overwatch differently, and with only a few tweaks, she had accepted it. Overwatch wouldn’t be run by the Strike-Commander alone. Rather, the new command structure would be made up of a team, and they would make most decisions by committee. But there was still a Strike-Commander, to serve as the face of Overwatch and to act as the liaison between Overwatch and the UN, as well as to make decisions in case of an emergency situation. But within the committee, the Strike-Commander was just one vote among several. And the committee was made up of the Strike Team, plus Dr. Cooper, with a provision to add more members later. As Director of Overwatch, Adawe could also add her voice, and if need be, she could act as a tie-breaker vote. Ultimately, the idea was that not everything was to be placed solely on the shoulders of the Strike-Commander, but rather that important duties to running the organization would be split up between the committee members. That included public appearances and even certain diplomatic functions.

“Jack didn’t want it,” young Gabe murmured. “But it fell to him anyway. Ana briefly considered tossing her name into the hat, but she decided otherwise in the end.” He shook his head. “I don’t really blame her. Having a kid really changes things. I understand that more than ever now. And well, she and Sam had a falling out in LA, when she decided she wanted to be part of the new Overwatch. He took off for Vancouver immediately.”

Gabriel didn’t bother mentioning that it had happened the same way with his Ana. Their engagement was called off and Fareeha would spend the rest of her childhood between Switzerland and Canada. Sam wasn’t a bad person and Gabriel understood his frustration, after Sam had put his own career on hold to take care of their infant while Ana ran off to fight a war. They never worked it out, but their relationship remained cordial, and ultimately he had proven to be a good father.

Gabriel had turned away to put the ham in the oven, but when he turned back, he noticed young Gabe had stopped chopping and seemed lost in thought. And well… not very happy.

“What’s wrong?” the older man asked.

“You… didn’t tell me… we’d be separated at the start of all this. Me and Jack.”

Gabriel gave him a blank look. “What?”

The younger man heaved a sigh. “I’ve been assigned by Adawe to open and command Watchpoint: Los Angeles. It’s already under construction. Reinhardt has been assigned to LA as well, he’ll be there to begin training new agents. Cooper will be there, preparing and sending out medical relief and teams all over the world. And Torbjörn will also be there, he already has a bunch of projects assigned, the primary of which is developing an affordable solution for clean water.”

Gabriel stood there for a moment, blinking stupidly. “Ana and Jack?”

“Ana is on recruitment duty. She’ll be stationed in New York and Geneva for now, with Adawe and Jack, but she’ll be doing a lot of traveling. She’ll be the one sending new agents to Reinhardt. And Jack will stay with Adawe, working on various diplomatic projects.”

“But headquarters…?”

“Delayed. I guess the land has already been purchased in Zürich, but a large chunk of Overwatch’s initial budget is going to me, for Watchpoint: LA, Cooper’s medical teams, and Reinhardt’s training. This is all totally new to you, isn’t it? That’s actually really fucking scary, Gabriel. You’re freaking me out right now.”

_Time is like a pond, you know, and every choice we make has a rippling effect, like a stone being tossed. But you’re lobbing huge boulders without any sense of the outcome…_

Unbidden, old Tracer’s words came back to him just then.

“Hold on. It sounds like everyone else has a pretty specific mission, or missions,” Gabriel said after a moment, keeping his voice steady. The kid did look freaked out. “What’s yours? Diverting the budget to you, to the point of delaying the construction of freaking headquarters? There has to be a reason.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason.” Gabe took hold of a tomato. “South America and Central America are a fucking mess after the war. But they, along with the United States, are sitting on a large chunk of the world’s food sources right now. There’s real and serious starvation happening and getting people food and clean water is priority for Overwatch. But there is a huge political mess, not to mention social unrest, in South America.”

The older man scowled. “You’re not a diplomat.”

“I’m not. But that’s not really my role. I mean, on the surface it’ll look like it is. But Adawe has actual diplomats who will be working on the politics and getting the various _presidentes_ to stop squabbling and get their shit together. Officially, I’ll be supporting Ambassador Stevens and Ambassador Ramos, as Overwatch’s liaison to South America.”

“And unofficially?”

Young Gabe grunted and took to chopping the tomato. “There’s a group that the UN recently designated as a terrorist group… _Defensas Unidas del Pueblo_. Started out during the war providing poor people with protection, food and medical resources that the governments down there failed in their duty to provide.” ((The People’s United Defense))

“I’m familiar with DUP,” Gabriel said, frowning. “But the governments in South America in my time insisted they could deal with it. It wasn’t until a few years from now, when these assholes blow up a village in Brazil, that they let Overwatch get involved.”

“Well, I don’t know, but Brazil wants Overwatch involved now. They, and several other countries have pledged to cooperate with me. On the surface I’ll be doing diplomatic bullshit with Stevens and Ramos, but really… Adawe wants me to find the leaders of this terrorist group, and figure out a plan to deal with them. Without violence, if possible. She is also concerned that Stevens and Ramos may become targets, so I’ll need to have agents to protect them as well.”

Gabriel said nothing, mulling over this information for quite some time as they continued preparations in silence.

“Adawe seems to think that my popularity in South America and Mexico is the reason why Brazil and Colombia are willing to cooperate,” young Gabe said after awhile. “And that’s why she wants me to be visible with the Ambassadors.”

It must have been the whole Dorado thing, and defying Portero to march on the omnics sooner. So many more lives were saved, and what the common people saw was a soldier willing to defy a president to help poor country folk. With Gabriel Reyes being so goddamn beloved and admired by the people, of course the politicians wanted to be seen with him, and be seen cooperating with a peace effort he was spearheading. 

All because old Gabriel had insisted the team get there sooner, to save Olivia’s parents. That was the proverbial boulder he had tossed. The ripple effects were indeed massive. 

“So you and Jack will be separated for however long it takes this South America shit to pan out,” he said out loud.

“Yeah. Neither of us are happy about it. But Jack wants me to do this anyway. He says I can do so much good. I mean, I know he’s right, but…” young Gabe heaved a sigh. “I don’t want him to miss out on Olivia growing up. Jack _is_ getting a personal jet, at least, so in theory he’ll able to come to LA.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s very excited about the jet.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched. “So was my Jack, back then.” He shook his head. “I… don’t know a lot about DUP that would help you now. Jack might have information for you, he dealt with the political fiasco down there far more than I did. But I can help you with staffing. I have a list I’ve been compiling for you, of agents you should hire. And the first one need to hire is a young pilot that’s currently in the Air Force.”

The younger man gave him a curious look. “A pilot? For Jack?”

“No, keep her with you. She will turn out to be one of your most loyal agents. And you’re going to need agents you can trust.”

“Well, Watchpoint: LA is getting a jet too, for the Ambassadors and myself. So I guess I do need a pilot.” Young Gabe finished what he was chopping and went over to the sink to wash his hands. “I need to wake up the kid, or she won’t sleep tonight.”

Gabriel nodded. “It’s going to be ok, Gabe. The script has changed some, but that’s to be expected.”

He didn’t say out loud, however, that there was a queasiness in his stomach. He didn’t like the script already changing so goddamn much this soon. Now he definitely needed Shadowfox as an ally, to help him keep track of things.

Oh yes, Shadowfox. Young Gabe was probably going to be pissed at him over that. Gabriel stowed that bit of information for now. The kid was stressed enough. They could talk about it later, if the hacker even agreed to work with him.

And then there was the whole thing about Reaper sensing the nanites in the younger man were different. They’d talk about that later too; it was something they would have to figure out.

Right at this moment, dinner was his immediate focus.

 

 

The Jacks came back with a Christmas tree. Because _of course_ they did. Old Gabriel must have had a look on his face when they came in with a 6-foot fresh pine and shopping bags full of what was probably decorations.

“Don’t look at me, this was his idea,” old Jack grumbled, nodding at the blonde.

Blondie laughed. “Oh my god, don’t even try to tell me you didn’t have a blast shopping! Besides, look at this place, it's barren. It needs some cheer! Gabe! Whatever you’re making smells amazing! My Gabe, help me with this tree, please!”

There was a flurry of activity as Blondie became a virtual whirlwind of holiday cheer. Old Jack pretended to be grouchy about it all, but he did help and he would be lying if he tried to suggest he wasn’t at least a little happy. Gabriel didn’t help, as he was keeping an eye on the ham and starting to prepare all the other things to go with it.

And Olivia, unsure of all the activity, spent a surprising amount of time sprawled on her belly near the kitchen, eyes locked on her tablet—which she had pulled out of her kitty backpack—playing a learning game. At one point, she got up and wandered over to Gabriel—who was shredding a coconut to garnish the coconut cilantro lime rice—and touched his leg to get his attention. He glanced down at her in surprise, having been deeply lost in his thoughts. She smiled up at him, eyes twinkling.

“Coco!” she exclaimed.

Right. Sombra had always loved coconut. She kept dried coconut strips around for snacking on. Probably the healthiest thing she munched on when she was working.

Gabriel chopped a piece of coconut off the main block, cutting it into very small pieces, and held one out to her. She thanked him in Spanish and then plopped down right next to him on the floor and went back to her game.

He shook his head. Just like his Sombra. But he was smiling.

Young Gabe helped him put the finishing touches on dinner and then set the table. It wasn’t until Gabriel himself brought the ham out to the dining table that he even saw Jack’s work. The tree was beautiful, all brilliantly lit up in white lights, and decorated with blue glass spheres, with a white star at the top. All the windows had strings of white lights around them, and out on the balcony there was a lit reindeer. There were even wrapped gifts under the tree, which must have come in the black duffel bag Gabe had brought in before.

“Why white and blue?” Gabriel asked. He was going to make a further smartass comment, but he was anticipated.

“Don’t be a dick,” young Gabe snapped at him.

But Blondie just laughed. “The blue things were all they had left at the store. It’s three days before Christmas, Gabe. The store was a wasteland. Anyway who cares, it’s pretty! Oh my god, the ham looks _amazing._ ”

“Hope you really like it, babe. There will be more just like it at my family dinner,” young Gabe said with a grin.

“I will eat ham all day long.” Blondie grabbed two small boxes in shiny red and blue paper, and brought them over to the table. “You can open the other boxes later, but you _have_ to open these right now.” He handed one box to old Jack and the other to Gabriel.

Startled, both of the older men glanced at each other. “You didn’t have to do this. Either of you,” old Jack said quietly. He’d been subdued all evening, ever since returning from the apparent whirlwind shopping trip Blondie had dragged him on. Gabriel sensed he was trying not to get emotional. Which he could completely sympathize with.

Young Gabe was already sitting at the table and had Olivia in his lap. “We wanted to. Now, open the boxes before Jackie explodes.” He gave the blonde—who plopped down next to him and ruffled Olivia’s shiny black hair—a fond smile. After a moment they kissed softly over her head, while she clapped her hands and smiled up at them.

Gabriel, standing on the other side of the table from them holding the red box, stared at them a little blankly. He realized with a sudden start that they were trying very hard to make Christmas incredibly special, for both themselves and everyone around them. Work was going to separate them soon, at least for a while, and that made this leave and holiday extremely precious.

He ripped the wrapping paper and opened the box, revealing a protective padded box within. This he slid out carefully, since it was obviously delicate. Nestled within the padding was a crystal sphere ornament, slightly frosted for effect but not enough to cover what was inside, which was a small photograph of young Gabriel and Jack—wearing suits and looking quite amazing—sitting cheek-to-cheek, with Olivia in a white dress in front of them. Right beneath the photograph was the year: 2048.

Old Jack was holding up another glass ornament which was completely frosted, but had _Gabe & Jack_ in gold letters, with the year 2047 beneath their names.

“That’s us,” Blondie said, pointing at the one Gabriel held. Then he pointed at the one Jack held. “And that’s you. I got a real odd look when I asked the custom shop to put last year on it, but… we thought it was important to commemorate the date you came into our lives.”

“That was the year everything changed. For the better. It lead to this year, which lead to other gifts,” young Gabe added. He dropped a kiss on Olivia’s head. She glanced up at him, but she was busy chewing a small piece of bread he had given her.

White-haired Jack was silent, still just holding the ornament up and standing still. Like he didn’t know how to react at all. After a moment, Gabriel cleared his throat.

“You’re both sentimental idiots,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, I guess. But what does that make both of you?” Blondie replied with a smirk.

 _Completely fucked. I never wanted to become so goddamn attached, to anything and anyone here, human or animal, and it’s like everything is constantly conspiring to have the opposite happen,_ Gabriel thought. Outwardly he just rolled his eyes. “Let’s put these on the tree, Jack, so you can all eat before everything gets cold.”

 **We have never really understood why you fight against your very human emotions,** Reaper said. **You cannot be unfeeling, no matter how hard you try. Would it not make more sense to deal with them, and work with them?**

Gabriel just gave an inward sigh.

No matter what Reaper said, he absolutely did not get emotional later, when he was handed three brightly-colored boxes, only to discover that he’d been gifted several bags of fancy coffee beans, a dark grey beanie ( _ok what the fuck how did they know_??), and a smallish bottle of Gran Patron tequila. And he was certain one could never get Jack Morrison, aka Soldier:76, to admit _he_ got emotional over his three boxes of gifts which contained a pack of his favorite fancy white chocolate candy, a really nice heavy black coffee mug that had the words _The Sun Also Rises_ in gold letters, and a pair of knit alpaca wool gloves in black.

“The.. uhh.. beanie and gloves are not perfect, sorry,” young Gabe said apologetically, looking embarrassed. “I’m trying to relearn knitting again, so I can make cute clothes for Olivia.”

Gabriel snorted and slipped the beanie on, his long hair streaming from beneath it. “Seems perfect to me, _chamaco._ ” He wasn’t even kidding; it was a lot like his favorite beanie that he lost when Talon blew up Overwatch.

Jack slipped on the gloves. “Yup, perfect.” He looked up with a frown. “We didn’t know you were coming, so we didn’t even get you anything.”

“We’re good. We have everything we need. Which, you gave to us. You’re covered for a lifetime of Christmases,” young Gabe replied, glancing over at Olivia, who was back to playing with her wooden toys on the floor nearby.

“I second that,” Blondie said, with a smile. He scooted closer to his Gabe and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

One would almost certainly never get either of the old men to admit they maybe shifted a little closer to each other as well. Just a little.


End file.
